


Savior

by elinatrevisan



Category: Star Wars: Knights of the Old Republic
Genre: Drama, Gen, Mandalorian Wars
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-23
Updated: 2011-07-23
Packaged: 2017-10-21 16:55:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 27,906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/227472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elinatrevisan/pseuds/elinatrevisan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The war with the Mandalorians is raging across the galaxy. Mala Noor, also known as Revan, has led the Republic in countless victories. Her leadership is put to the test, however, when she discovers an ancient threat that could destroy the galaxy. With only her oldest friends to aid her, she must embark in a search for the truth before all that she has worked to protect is lost.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Archive Unit

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for the Bioware Bang on livejournal. The title was taken from the song by 30 Seconds to Mars, which was used as inspiration to help set the tone. This fanfic falls in line with my other KOTOR fanfiction. Please enjoy!

### Chapter 1: The Archive Unit

"How many Mandalorians are in here?" Mala asked, looking around at the entrance to the cave-like structure. From the outside, she had assumed it to be a natural construction; caves were common in this area. As soon as she entered, however, all of those assumptions were dashed. Though there were obviously thousands of years of wear, the entrance hall still looked like a hall. It puzzled her somewhat, as there were no indications that this planet had ever supported any form of sapient life.

"We can't be sure," the young Jedi that was currently serving as her aide said. What was his name? Rath?

"Can we get an estimate, Commander Rath?"

"Somewhere between ten and twenty. Wouldn't it be better to simply seal off these caves, rather than chasing them down?"

"We have no way of knowing how many exits there might be. One of Cassus Fett's top lieutenants is in here, and I don't want him escaping. Also, I'd rather not turn this whole zone into a radioactive crater. That feels a bit excessive, even to me." She smirked at him, though she knew he couldn't see the gesture beneath her mask. The vocal modulator in her mask conveyed her tone, however, even as it changed it to a masculine tenor.

One of the techs approached them, and she turned her attention to him. "It's no good, general. Whatever these walls are lined with is blocking our signals."

"Well, at least that probably means that the Mandalorians can't call for reinforcements." The thought of stumbling in there blind was not appealing to her. "Rath, gather all of the Jedi to me. If the techs can't get us a layout, it's up to us."

The young Knight bowed. "Yes, master."

Within minutes, all of the Jedi had were kneeling in a circle and were attempting to use the Force to discern the maze of passages. The rock that blocked off the tech's signals apparently had the same effect on their senses, and Mala wondered if she could take a sample to study. Something like this could prove very useful.

Despite the interference of the stone, they soon had a basic layout of the ruined structure, as well as the location that the Mandalorians had retreated to. As Mala stood, one of the Jedi spoke up.

"Master," he said, "I don't like this place."

Another Jedi nodded. "I agree, master. There's a strong Dark Side presence here."

"I noticed," Revan agreed. "But we have all felt the presence of the Dark Side before, and none of us have succumbed. We'll be fine. No matter what the Jedi council may think of us." A few of the Jedi smiled at this. "Now, shall we take care of a few Mandalorians?"

As they progressed through the caves, they found that the map they had constructed from their Force excursion was incomplete. Numerous passages that branched off of their route were unmapped, and Mala resisted the urge to go down and explore them. She'd never seen ruins like these, with their high, curved arches and snaking carvings. She would have to send an excavation team through them after they had cleared the Mandalorians.

All of the Jedi froze as they approached one of these unmapped corridors. Mala turned and stared at it. She could almost see the dark energy pouring out of it.

One of the squad commanders turned to her. "Is something wrong, sir?"

"Master," Rath muttered.

"I sense it." She glanced around at the Jedi with her. She suddenly wished that one of her regular circle of advisors could be with her. Her old master, in particular, would be very comforting. Unfortunately, Dira had been requested aboard the _Ordinance_. Mala's childhood friend, Halae, was commanding her for now. Alek (or Malak, as he called himself ever since getting those ridiculous head tattoos) had returned to Coruscant to testify in the trial of the Mandalorian scientist, Demagol. Any of those three would know what to say.

She was about to tell everyone to move on, when she felt a sudden prompting to go down the corridor. Dira had taught her to always follow the will of the Force, no matter where it led.

"Rath," she said. "With me. Everyone else, continue on."

"Master?" Rath asked.

"Follow your orders. There's something down here, and I'd rather not have it behind us."

"Yes, master."

Mala nodded to the squad leaders, and the rest of the group continued on. As they progressed down the corridor, the Dark Side presence grew stronger. She had, in her time in the archives on Dantooine and in various ancient ruins and battlefields, sensed the presence of the Dark Side a number of times. This was nothing like that. The dark energy plucked at her mind, bringing images of death and destruction to her recollection. There was something down that corridor, something dangerous.

Rath suddenly doubled over, leaning against a wall, and began to retch. Mala waited until his spasms subsided, then stepped up beside him. "Are you going to be able to continue?"

He hesitated for a moment before answering, which provided all of the answer that she needed. "I shall be fine in a moment, master."

She shook her head. "If you can't focus, you're no good to me. Go back and rendezvous with the rest of the group. If you receive no word from me in a half hour, attempt to raise me on the comm, but don't follow." She hesitated. This place was probably the first known ruins of a previously unknown civilization. To damage them would be a terrible crime to her archivist's soul. "If you can't raise me, finish the mission and get out of here. Then seal off the caves and bomb it from orbit."

"Are you sure?"

"Do you want whatever is in here to get out?"

"No, master."

"Good. Then do as you're told. I'll deal with this, and then I'll see if I can rejoin you."

"Yes, master. Just... promise that you won't take any unnecessary risks."

She smiled. "Of course."

He nodded and turned around, leaning on the wall for support as he walked. Mala continued on. The corridor branched in several places, but it was always easy to know which way to go. The Dark Side led her on.

She finally entered a large room. The ceilings of this room were far taller than the halls had been, and it bore claw-like spires along the side walls. The far wall had two sets of shelves on either side of a large console with a red crystal. Light fixtures on the ceiling were directed at the crystal.

She stepped up to the shelves and looked at the tomes that were lined there. They were books of metal plates, bound together by rings. The years had degraded the metal somewhat, but not much. She picked one up and looked inside, studying the curling script written within. She had never seen it before, and decided to send Dira some scans when she got back to the _Swiftsure_. She placed as many of the volumes as she could into her bag, then moved to study the console.

The crystal seemed to be the main control mechanism, though she had no idea how it could work. It also felt like the center of the Dark Side energy in this place. Should she destroy it? That might put an end to the threat. Then again, it might be containing something that would then be released. She wished she had more time to study the console.

She stepped in front of the crystal. "Well," she muttered. "Vrook always said I was impetuous." She placed her hands on the crystal.

The lights shot on, and Mala could feel the Dark Side energy contract around her. She was unable to breathe for a moment, as the energy squeezed her lungs. The feeling dissipated as the lights brightened to blinding levels. She shut her eyes, but the light burned at her through her lids. This only lasted for a second, however, as the lights dimmed again. There was a semi-transparent figure now standing above the console. Its skin was red-tanned, its figure thin, its hair fair and flaxen. It stared down at her with dark eyes.

It opened its mouth and a soft, hissing language began to pour out. Mala was used to relying on the Force to understand languages that she had never faced before, though it never before had worked on computers. Now, however, she could feel the intent of the words as if it was a real person. That explained why the computer still worked after thousands of years: it was a Force projection, much like a holocron.

"This archive unit has not been activated for 2,393 solar revolution cycles," it said. "And you are not Sithras. Your life-form is similar to the Zhell of Notron, but there are genetic differences. State your query."

She recognized Zhell and Notron as referring to the early humans on Coruscant, but she had never heard of the Sithras before.

Mala stepped back from the console to better view the figure. If it was Force-based, would it understand her? There was only one way to find out. "I am General Revan, commander of the Jedi Expeditionary Task Force. What is the purpose of this unit?"

The figure spoke. "This unit is unable to process your speech. Technological interference is detected. This problem will be corrected."

Mala jerked back as a hot pain seared her throat, and she heard an electric spark from within her mask. She pulled it off and saw that the voice modulator had been scorched into a twisted lump of metal. She raised one hand to the burn that it had left and healed it as best she could. The Dark Side presence made it difficult, but she was able to ease the pain, and she doubted it would scar. She stared at the figure. What kind of computer used Force projections and had the ability to do something like that? She swallowed deeply and repeated her introduction, now in her natural voice.

"Greetings, Revan. This is an archive unit, left behind by the Order of Darth to aid any remaining Sithras that did not receive retreat coordinates. This unit also serves to aid any lesser life-forms in improvement, allowing them to gain knowledge of Sithras culture and history and learn from it. If you wish to learn of this culture, you may make inquiries."

Mala's childhood, spent for so long in the archives of the Jedi enclave on Dantooine, had taught her nothing of these Sithras, whoever they were. She would love nothing more than to spend hours learning from this computer, but she knew that she didn't have the time. Rath had most likely reached the rest of their group by now, and her clock was ticking.

"I'm afraid I don't have the time to learn as much as I would like. You said that this unit was left by the Sithras. Who are they?"

"The Sithras, as a discrete group, first emerged after the war of-"

"Could you be more brief? I don't have time for a full history lesson."

"The Sithras are a sub-race of the larger Sith population." Mala's blood ran cold. "They are characterized by their browner skin, fair hair, dark eyes, and height. They were created through centuries of crossbreeding with a very specific group of Zhell, as well as various slave races."

"Did you say Sith?"

"Yes. Is your hearing damaged in some form?"

"No," she said faintly. Her mind was racing. She knew that the Sith had once been a race, of course. She also knew that they had bred with humans, but she had never heard of these Sithras. "You said that the Sith were retreating. Retreating from what?

"Cultural corruption."

She waited a moment, hoping that the unit would elaborate, but it did not. "I'm afraid that you'll need to be more specific."

"The Sithras are a proud race which held to the old ideals of power and change. The Sithras way of life was under threat from a growing movement of new ideology which discouraged the challenging of power, instead encouraging individuals to remain withing their caste and accept their position. Rather than face this movement in a frontal attack, the Sithras chose to retreat to the ends of the known galaxy to gain strength until they could attack more securely."

"Explain more of this Sithras ideology."

"The Sithras believe in power through change. While stability has its advantages, it also leads to stagnation. Without allowing the strong to rise up and challenge the current authority, there is no way to ensure that the strong rule. If challengers are allowed to rise and attempt to take power, then a society is strengthened. The weak are killed and eliminated from the gene pool, and the strong are able to lead."

"That sounds like anarchy."

"It is the duty of those in power to control those under their reign. Leaders are interchangeable, and one is capable of taking over directly from another. Thus, order is retained."

"I suppose it's a good thing the Sith were wiped out," Mala muttered to herself.

"You are incorrect."

Mala's brow furrowed. "What?"

"The Sithras remain."

"No. No, that's not possible. The last of the Sith were wiped out in a war."

"This unit received communications from the Order of Darth only fifteen planetary revolutions ago. The probability of the entire Sithras population, a group of approximately three billion, being killed in a war in that period of time is incredibly small."

"Surely there's a delay between a message being sent and received."

"You are assuming that Sithras communications are signal-based, which would take time to travel the light years in distance. Sithras communications are Force-based, allowing a message to be sent and received at the same moment. There is no time delay."

All of Mala's ill feelings began to make sense to her now. "Are you saying that there are a group of ancient Sith sitting somewhere in the Unknown Regions, capable of instant communication with our part of the galaxy?"

"If you choose to identify the Sithras people under the general term of 'Sith', then yes."

This was a disaster. She had to warn the senate, the Jedi, everyone. But she had to know more. "What... what are you? How was this terminal created? How is it still functioning, after all these years? How do you understand my language?"

"This unit is a Force-based intelligence simulation and knowledge repository. Reliance on mechanical or electrical parts which are subject to degradation were kept to a minimum to ensure a long life. This unit also bears the physical appearance and abilities of Hasheth Sithrun Ashtaltha Pisrath, an enemy of the Darth Trishlasa. He was sentenced to computer integration after capture."

"What does that mean, 'computer integration'?"

"His Force essence was harnessed and placed within the control crystal of this unit."

"So he was killed?"

"No. In death, one's Force essence is freed. While Hasheth Sithrun Ashtaltha Pisrath's body was destroyed, his essence is still bound within this computer."

Mala swallowed deeply. She'd read theoretical discussions that mentioned the trapping of a being's life energy within a computer, and she had long suspected that it was possible. It was an entirely different matter to be faced with the enslaved soul of a dead man. "What did this man do to deserve this punishment?"

"He angered the Darth Trishlasa, as this unit has already stated. Is there a problem with your short-term memory?"

"I was wondering what he did to anger this Trishlasa person."

"This unit does not know. Do you have further inquiries?"

"Yes, of course." She took a moment to order her thoughts, only to be interrupted by the buzzing of her comm.

"General Revan," the orange squad leader's voice issued from the device.

"What?" she snapped. She took a deep breath and spoke again, more calmly. "I mean, Revan here. What is it?"

"Is that you, General?" Her brows furrowed. The signal was degraded by the stone's unique properties, but her voice must surely have still been recognizable.

"Yes, of course it is."

"It's just... you sound like a woman. Sir."

Mala looked at the mask in her hand. She'd forgotten about that. "Ah. My mask's voice projector is malfunctioning. It's altering my voice. Is this the half-hour check-in?"

"Y-yes, sir. This is very disconcerting, sir."

Mala rolled her eyes. "Focus, Commander."

"Yes, sir. Sorry, sir. We're close to the Mandalorians, but they retreated farther into the caves. Do you want us to continue to pursue?"

Mala glanced at the Force projection, which stood serenely above the console, awaiting her instructions. "No. I want you to withdraw."

"Sir?"

"You heard me. Withdraw from the caves and bring in a demolition team. One hour from your exit, I want you to seal this place off, whether I'm out or not. If I'm not out, I then want you to withdraw from the planet and turn this zone to glass."

Her words were greeted with silence.

"Do you copy, commander?"

"Yes, sir," he said. "But... do you require assistance in there? I could send one of the other Jedi-"

"No!" The last thing she wanted was to show this to Rath or one of the other Jedi in their group. "Just listen to your damn orders! Revan out!"

She cut the comm channel and returned her attention to the projection. She had a definite time limit now. "Alright, we need to be quick. What was this recent communication from your Order of Darth about? Why do they need to be contacting you?"

"That question involves current Sithras military activities, and security clearance must first be obtained. Do you wish to apply for clearance?"

"No. You said that the Sithras retreated into the Unknown Regions. What are their exact coordinates?"

"That question involves current Sithras military activities, and security clearance must first be obtained. Do you wish to apply for clearance?"

"No, damn it!" She slammed her fist into the console. She took another deep breath, keeping her gaze focused downwards. The Dark Side energy in this place was getting to her. She had to remain calm. "Alright. How does one obtain security clearance?"

"A mental probe is performed on the applicant. If their mental defenses are of sufficient strength to defend against an interrogation and they are found to have a psyche in line with Sithras doctrine, then security clearance is granted. The process takes an average of thirty seconds, and is nearly painless unless the check is failed."

She glanced back up. "And what happens then?"

"In most cases, death. If the subject is sufficiently skilled in defensive Force abilities, it is only painful and temporarily debilitating."

Mala weighed the risks in her mind. She had no idea what these Sith would consider to be debilitating, but she doubted she would like it. Also, the phrase "nearly painless" gave her pause. Would her mind be strong enough? She was fairly good at throwing up a mental shield, but was it enough? And if she didn't do this, what would happen?

"Alright. Do it."

"Stand still while the check is made."

There wasn't even the slightest pause before the attack began on her mind. She was already slightly weakened by the Dark Side presence in the room, but she managed to stand strong against the initial assault. She doubted that she would be found to be in line with Sithras doctrine, so she couldn't let her shield fail.

She was so focused on defending against the brute force attack on her psyche that she almost didn't notice a softer, gentler infiltration behind it. She hurriedly tried to block it off, but it was too late. Her whole body erupted in pain, and she doubled over.

"You have failed the security check. Your mind is both weak and in direct opposition to the ideals of the Sithras people. You are to be punished. If you are strong enough, you shall not die. This unit encourages you to do so, however, as it would free resources for-"

She heard no more as everything went dark.

When she awoke, she had no idea how much time had passed. She stood slowly, her knees shaking. Whatever the archive unit had done to her, it left her completely drained. She raised her arm to check her chrono. Her eyes widened, and she swept up her mask. Mala began to run, her legs slipping from beneath her at first before she finally regained complete control.

She attempted to raise her troops on the comm, but found that it was fried. Her men had probably been trying to raise her for the past ten minutes, at least.

She felt the first explosion as she turned into the final corridor. It seemed that the demolition team had decided to bring down rocks from higher up on the cliff face to seal the entrance. She felt deep within her, hoping desperately to find some reserves of power that could allow her to rush out before the boulders.

She was in the entrance hall now, and she could see the first rocks beginning to fall. The rumbling ground and the sound of the explosives brought her thoughts back to the Mandalorians and the slaughter at Cathar. If she died in here, she wouldn't be able to fight them anymore. The thought filled her with rage, and a new wellspring of strength flowed into her. She channeled her power into her legs and forced herself to run faster than any normal human could. She leapt onto the rocks at the entrance of the cave, propelling herself off of them and clearing the area. A few stray boulders threatened to crush her as she flew through the air, but she batted them away with the Force. She hit the ground running.

As soon as she was out of danger, she allowed herself to slow, then collapsed. The rage left her, only to be replaced with horror. Had that been the Dark Side? Her strength certainly hadn't come from serenity. She felt dirty.

She heard approaching footsteps and put her mask back on. She could show neither her face nor her emotions to these people.

"Master!"

She looked up and saw Rath running towards her. She didn't know how, but she managed to stand as he approached. He reached out an arm to help her, and she considered pushing it away. Then her knees buckled, and she grudgingly accepted his assistance.

"We did as you ordered, Master. The cave is sealed. What are your orders?"

She attempted to speak, but her mouth was dry and clogged with dust from the falling rocks. She cleared her throat. "Remove all of our troops from the planet. I don't want a single soul left here. Then slag it."

"Are you certain, Master Revan? These plains could serve as a great staging area for-."

"Don't question orders!" she snapped. She immediately felt the disturbing power begin to rise within her again, and she pushed away her irritation. "There is something here which must never be seen again. I don't know how large those ruins are, so take out the entire zone. Also, I want a message sent to the Ordinance requesting that Master Dira be sent to me at once. I need her expertise."

"At once, master. Is there anything else you wish?"

"I want orders to be sent out amongst everyone here that this place and the events that have transpired here are classified. No one is to discuss even the existence of those caves. Understood?"

"Yes, Master. I'll take care of it. Are you alright? Do you want to see a medic?"

She took a moment to inventory her body. As far as she knew, there was no physical damage done besides the small burn on her throat. "No. I simply need to rest."

"Yes, Master."


	2. Korriban

### Chapter 2: Korriban

Mala's eyes opened sluggishly. She took a moment to attempt to recall her dreams, and they came to her mind all too quickly. There had been dark-robed forms carrying red lightsabers. She was forced to watch on in horror as they killed her friends. Malak had fallen in the burning and crumbling ruins of Mala's old room on Dantooine. His enemy was a short, slight shape wielding two blades. Dira managed to put up a better fight, wielding multiple weapons with the power of her mind before finally being cut down by a tall figure. Her location was less clear, thought it was some dark place strewn with the wreckage of hundreds of Republic ships. Even Kavar had been shot through by lightning from an old, withered hand that was only barely visible through a thick fog. In the end, only Halae stood beside her against the dark forms.

She breathed deeply, attempting to calm her racing heart. It was probably just a dream. She wasn't surprised that at the nightmare, considering all that had happened the day before. There was no real reason to believe it to be a premonition. If she repeated that enough, she might just start to believe it.

Her lights shot on, and she leapt to stand on the bed. Her sabers were in her hands and ignited before her eyes could adjust to the sudden light.

"Your reflexes are slipping."

She blinked until she could see properly. Her eyes were drawn to the brown-robed figure that had spoken, and she sighed. Even without seeing the old woman, she would know that voice anywhere. The sight of the gray hair pulled into a severe bun and those deep brown eyes would always be reassuring to Mala. She switched off the weapons and allowed them to fall to her bed. "Master Dira. What are you doing here so soon? I thought Halae was still at Lantillies."

"She is. I came as soon as I heard you'd sent for me. She knew you were in distress several hours before the message reached us, however. You know how she is."

Mala nodded and climbed off the bed. She moved to her mirror and worked on pulling her hair back into a bun. "How did you get here so soon?"

"I didn't. You've been asleep for over 48 hours."

"Oh."

Dira took a seat in the chair at the desk. "That poor aide of yours was in a panic when I arrived. He was afraid that you'd died in here, and was nearly ready to enter to retrieve your corpse. I was able to talk him down."

"Thank you, Master." She finished taming her hair (as much as she ever could) and studied her burn in the mirror. She was pleased to see that it had disappeared almost entirely. No physical signs remained of her encounter on the planet. She opened her closet and began to dress.

"So do you intend upon explaining to me why you called me here? I imagine it has something to do with the reason why you slept for days."

Mala paused, her shirt halfway off. "I guess I should. To be honest, I'm not sure where to begin."

"I find that chronological order is generally the simplest."

"Right." And so, she started at the beginning: the Mandalorians' retreat into the strange ruins, her discovery of the ancient computer, and then all that she learned from it. She explained the failed security check, and considered leaving out the details of her escape. She looked once into Dira's eyes, and knew that she couldn't. The woman knew her far too well for that to pass. She explained the rage and desire for vengeance that had powered her escape. She closed her eyes and waited for the chastisement that was sure to follow.

"I see."

Mala continued to wait, but nothing more came. She hadn't expected rage; that wasn't Dira's style. It was far more likely that her tone would remain neutral, her volume low, but that the words she spoke would leave Mala feeling incredibly small. That woman could cut with words far better than anyone else Mala knew. After another moment of silence, she finally looked up. Dira's face was shadowed, pensive. Mala finally spoke, unable to stand the silence. "Aren't you going to say something?"

"What do you want me to say? That you shouldn't have done what you did? I won't."

"But... the Dark Side. It's evil."

Dira laughed, and her face cleared. "My dear girl, I am far too old and have spent far too long studying ancient histories to believe it to be as simple as that."

Mala knew that her old master had theories about the Dark Side which differed from the other masters, but this seemed far more than that. "What do you mean?"

"I mean that history can teach many things about Dark and Light. Your statement is understandable, but an oversimplification. The Dark Side and evil often go hand in hand, just as the Light Side and good often do, but that isn't all. Have you ever met a Dark Jedi?"

"Not personally, no."

"And have you ever met a bad Jedi?"

Her mind immediately flew to the council, and their inaction. Surely not all of them were bad, necessarily. Kavar and Vandar certainly were good, though with bad judgment on the matter of the Mandalorians. Atris, however... Mala had clashed with her often, and had difficulty describing her as anything else. "Yes," she said.

"Do you begin to see my point?"

"I think I do. But how could the Dark Side be anything but evil?"

"We can see that in your own situation. You called me because you believe this to be an immediate threat, correct?" Mala nodded. "Very well. and if you had been sealed in those ruins? Would you have been able to do anything about this danger?"

"Well, no, but-"

"And was there any other way that you could have escaped those ruins?"

Mala had quite never believed that a person could ever be faced with only one option. "I'm sure there was another way."

"Allow me to rephrase. Did you see any other way that you could have escaped those ruins?"

"Not at the time, no."

"So any alternate course of action would have been rather pointless, since you couldn't think of it. So, even with your rather brief brush with the Dark Side, do you consider yourself to be 'evil'?"

"No. Not really."

"Then the Dark Side has served a good purpose. You remain here to save lives, no worse for the wear, and you have now alerted another to the danger these Sithras pose."

All of Dira's words made perfect logical sense. The problem was that emotions were rarely logical. "It still feels wrong."

"As it should. I believe that to be a natural reaction, designed to help keep us from falling. The Dark Side may not be inherently evil, but if we rely on it completely, I believe that it atrophies our own natural abilities. Those feelings exist to keep us from using it as a crutch. Now, if your conscience has been assuaged, shall we focus on the imminent Sith threat? Where are these metal plates of yours? Perhaps we can translate them."

Mala retrieved the volumes from the locked drawer where they had been secured and Dira took a small stack to the desk. They began to work. Dira's previous experience as an archivist was quite useful, but they made little progress. After almost four hours of frustration, Mala's stomach growled loudly.

Dira glanced up at her. "When did you last eat?"

"Um... Right before we landed on the planet, I think."

"That was three full days ago. Have you had anything to drink?"

"Yes. During the battle."

Dira sighed and shook her head, while Mala felt slightly embarrassed. This was hardly the first time that this had happened. Normally whoever served as her aide saw to it that she received regular meals, but she had told Rath not to enter her quarters unless she called for him.

"In my defense," Mala said, "I was asleep for two of those days."

"Yes," Dira said, her voice dripping with dry humor. "I suppose I shall have to be the adult here and fetch us some food from the mess hall. I trust that you won't forget to breathe, too, while I am away?"

"I think I'll manage."

"Very well." Dira stood and left the room. Mala took up the now-vacant seat at the desk and began to work.

The script used in these records was unfamiliar to both of them. Dira had commented that she might have seen something similar, but she didn't know where. The list of possible locations was so immense, they didn't even bother attempting to figure it out.

They were able to identify the basic alphabet, and they could tell what marks were punctuation or other similar notation. It wasn't particularly complicated, as far as they could tell. There were less than forty different characters. Dira had been working on checking the recurrences of them in an attempt to determine their usage. Mala wished that she'd recorded the speech used by the Sithras computer, but the thought hadn't occurred to her at the time.

It looked like Dira had made some progress, as she had been using some of the pictures and graphs to discern meaning from the words around them. Mala knew that her own skills in this area were nothing when compared to those of her old master, but the pictures could tell her something. She turned to a diagram that took up an entire page and began to study it.

It was a large rounded blob, within which there were others. They were placed seemingly at random, though no two intersected and they combined to cover most of the space within the larger section. Each smaller blob held several sets of small ovals within them. She studied one of these sets of concentric shapes and noticed a small bit of script next to a dot along the circle. The writing was too small to read, however. She searched along the other circles and saw several more dots and several more bits of script. She moved to her console and scanned the page in so that she could zoom in.

With the larger computer image, she was able to see that there were several of those dots with writing beside them. Each one seemed to be made up of three separate words or phrases. One of those phrases was the same between all of them, while the second phrase bore the same first few characters. The third phrase was different between each one. One of the dots had an extra phrase and a strange symbol that Mala hadn't seen elsewhere in any of the documents. She isolated and magnified this mark.

It almost looked like a curly star burst shape. Their entire script seemed to be made up of swirls and hooks, with very few straight lines. For this particular symbol, it was probably not a letter, which could mean it was a pictograph. If she assumed it had been stylized somewhat, what would it look like normally?

She began to edit the image, straightening the lines and removing the curls. It was difficult to tell, but it was probably either a star burst or an arrow pointing at the dot. Possibly some combination of the two.

The Force is a strange thing, and it works through different people in different ways. Mala was prone to visions of the future. Other times, the Force would take a more subtle route. Vague impressions or stray thoughts could be the result of the Force. This was what happened now.

She stared at the image, and three words came to her mind.

"You are here," she muttered softly. She switched to the image of the whole page and looked at it again. "A galaxy map!" She brought up a current galaxy map and overlaid the image. It needed to be twisted, as apparently the Sithras had a different idea of galactic north. There were some discrepancies, and it only showed a small portion of the galaxy, but it was unmistakeable. She assumed the differences to be due to stellar drift, and she set the computer to analyze it and use that to determine the age of the map.

3,000 years. Her eyes widened. These were some of the earliest Sith documents ever discovered. There was no way to be entirely certain, but the computer was probably accurate up to at least a century. That placed it some time during the Hundred-Year Darkness, before the Jedi Exiles met with the Sith race.

The door opened and Dira entered with a full tray of food. "I ran into your little aide out in the hall. He was apparently still under the impression that you'd passed away in here, and that I was simply sitting with your corpse, or something like that. I assured him you were well, and sent him on his way."

"Master!" Mala completely ignored everything that had just been said. She ran over to her master and pointed at the screen. "I've found something!"

"Any progress is welcome."

"This page is a galaxy map, with several planets marked. This one is marked differently than the others. It's the planet where I found the Sithras ruins."

Dira set down the tray and studied the screen. Her eyes widened a fraction. "Oh, my. Do you know what planet this is?" She pointed at one of the marked planets.

Mala's brow furrowed. The planet wasn't marked on the current galaxy map. She shook her head.

Dira smiled. "I can now recall where I've seen writings like this before. It was a rubbing of wall carvings on Korriban." Dira tapped the screen.

Mala stared at the planet. "That... is Korriban?"

Dira nodded. "I'm not surprised it isn't marked on your map. Travel there is... discouraged."

"Were you able to translate those wall carvings?"

"To an extent. It was a slightly different script than this, but it could be useful."

"I don't suppose you remember anything about the language?"

"I've translated a great many ancient languages. This was a single translation from decades ago, which I have never looked at since. No, I do not."

"Is there any way we can get access to your previous translations?"

"Short of breaking into the Jedi archives on Dantooine? No."

Mala groaned. "Alright. Well, what about repeating your work? How did you translate it before?"

"Don't give up hope just yet. This map details the region generally understood to be Sith space during the period of this map, but it clearly isn't a map of Sith planets. Ziost, for example, isn't marked, while other planets are. What if this is a map of Sithras worlds?"

Mala looked over the map. "I suppose it would make sense. What are the odds of finding ruins on one of these other planets?"

Dira once again pointed to Korriban. "Korriban is largely unexplored by the Republic. The climate can be harsh, but only if one hopes to live there. Structures are generally well-preserved. And besides that, these Sith ruins have a tendency of remaining hidden until they want to be found. I suspect that if one set has been found, the others may present themselves to us as well."

"Alright," Mala said. "So we need to go to Korriban. But I can't leave the fleet. Not only could it be dangerous to the war effort, it would raise too many questions if I were to leave."

"Perhaps you should invest in a body double."

"That solves one problem, but not the other. I need to remain in contact with the fleet."

"I don't know how to tell you this, but I doubt that your absence for a month will result in our losing the war."

Mala smirked. "Perhaps. I am, however, an intractable control freak." She turned her eyes back to the galaxy map. "No, I need to send a part of the fleet there." She began to pace the room. "Korriban is in a tactically difficult place. It's deep enough into Mandalorian territory that getting there could be difficult, but it's not so deep that it's impossible. It's also not a particularly useful staging area, so our trip there will need some sort of justification. I'll need time to think on this."

"I take it that you don't wish to go public with the real reason for your mission?"

"Of course not. If I go public without any concrete proof of the danger, I'll just sound like a lunatic. No, this will be a secret."

"Perhaps you should consult Halae, then. She is nearly as good a tactician as you; I'm sure she could aid you in finding a justification to go to Korriban."

Mala thought to her lifelong friend, the woman who served now as her tactical advisor. She thought of explaining the method used to escape the collapsing ruins, and her blood ran cold. "No," she said. "No, I can't tell Halae this. Not yet. Only you and I are to know." Dira understood her need for the Dark Side in those moments. Halae wouldn't. She brought up her tactical map on the computer, with the latest movements of both fleets. "Just give me a few hours, and I'll have what I need."

"Very well. Just do me one favor."

"What?" Mala said, flicking through intelligence reports, her mind already filled with plans and troop movements.

"Eat something."

\- - - - -

Mala found her reason before long. While Korriban itself remained untouched by the Mandalorians, there was a supply convoy that passed through that system. She'd known about the convoy for weeks, but hadn't deemed it important enough to shut down. Still, it was a major enough supply route that no one would question her sending a few ships to the system. What people did question, however, was Revan's presence on one of these ships. None of them spoke directly to her, thankfully, and she ignored the murmurs.

Dira took over her regular position as aide and advisor, and they took quarters aboard the lead interdictor. Even during her days on the planet, she would be able to maintain contact with the ship and, through it, the fleet. With any luck, no one would even notice she was gone.

After overseeing their arrival in system and the setup of their blockade, she changed into a set of nondescript brown robes. She didn't often wear them and appear publicly under her true identity. It was refreshing to hear people refer to her with the proper pronouns on occasion.

She looked up as her door swished open and Dira entered. "I've requisitioned the shuttle," her old master said. "This hall should be clear for several minutes, so no one will see you leaving these quarters."

"Thank you," Mala said, taking up her lightsabers and the datapad that contained all of their translation notes. "The next supply convoy isn't predicted to come through here for another week, so we should have until then."

They stepped out of Mala's quarters and headed towards the shuttle bay. The two of them drew a few stares, but it was nothing like Mala received while wearing her mask and armor. She was treated as just another Jedi. She took a deep breath and sighed contentedly.

Dira glanced at her. "Why do you wear the mask?" Her voice was low enough that no one who passed by could hear them.

"You know why. I swore not to remove it until the Mandalorians have been defeated."

"And yet you aren't wearing it now."

"It's a morale-boosting gesture. So long as the public never sees me without it, it serves its purpose. It makes me a symbol. People don't follow individuals the way that they follow symbols."

"You don't need a mask to be a symbol."

"No, but I need one if I want to be anything other than a short Jedi woman with bad hair." She turned her head to face Dira and smirked. "I have no illusions as to my appearance. I'm not intimidating. I'm not inspiring. The mask is." Her eyes turned forward again. "And besides, I can wear platform shoes and shoulder pads with the mask. It's amazing how much more respect you get when you're taller than the average twelve-year old."

Dira sighed and shook her head. "Anyone can be intimidating and inspiring. Even you. I have seen it."

"You know me. You know that I'm fully capable of acting on my threats. Most don't." They stopped in front of the shuttle bay and Dira swiped a pass card. Mala tried to use her own as little as possible. The less of an imprint that Mala left, the better.

They approached the sergeant that was in charge of the shuttles, and Dira took charge. "General Dira Rimora and Commander Mala Noor, to take shuttle PJ-03 on a reconnaissance mission."

The sergeant looked up at them. "Ah, yes. Revan's orders, right?"

"That is correct."

He pulled out a datapad. "Kinda strange, don't you think? Sending two Jedi on a recon mission?"

"Are you questioning Revan's orders?" Dira narrowed her eyes.

"No!" He quickly finished the appropriate paperwork. "Of course not! Never!" Mala smirked. The man passed the datapad to Dira. "Here you are, Master Jedi. Best of luck."

"Thank you, sergeant."

As Mala strapped herself into the pilot's seat, she turned to Dira, grinning widely. "See? The mask works."

Dira rolled her eyes.

\- - - - -

They decided to start their search at the ruins where Dira had seen a similar alphabet. With any luck, they could simply use those as a basis for the Sithras language. The ruins weren't difficult to find, and they set camp. The alphabets were definitely related, but using the known language as a basis produced nothing but gibberish.

When Dira ordered a break for a meal, Mala reluctantly set down her datapad and moved to the small pile of field rations that they'd brought along. She sighed and tore open the wrapper on a bar. "I don't think we're getting anywhere," she muttered before taking a bite of the tasteless hunk of vitamins.

"Give it time. You can't expect to learn an entire language in a single day."

"I don't think time will help. I think we're looking at more than an older dialect."

"What do you mean?"

"Surely you've noticed it, too. The structure of the language is completely different. This is practically a different language with a similar alphabet."

Dira chewed slowly, her eyes distant. "You may be right. What gave you this impression, though?"

"Just a feeling."

"Trust your feelings. The Force acts through you unlike any other Jedi I have seen."

"So what do we do?"

"First, we should eat. Then we can begin to search for Sithras ruins."

Mala nodded. A part of her feared those ruins, but her fear of the Sithras' plans was far greater.

They packed up their camp and climbed into the shuttle. Mala sat in the pilot's seat, her hands resting on the controls.

"So," she said. "Where to?"

"Don't ask me. You are the one who seems to be guided to these ruins."

" _I_ don't know where to go. You know more about the various sites on Korriban. Any ideas?"

"None whatsoever. As I said, the Jedi haven't explored much here."

"Great." Mala sighed. "Well, I really hope the Force takes over." She started up the shuttle and lifted off. "North sounds good. We'll try that."

Mala flew reasonably slow. Korriban was covered in ruins, and she didn't want to miss seeing any. And they didn't. They flew for hours, and every time they passed over a ruined structure or cave opening, Dira would point it out and Mala would dismiss it. The architecture style was never quite right. Besides that, none of them felt right. After a few hours, a craggy mountain range rose up in front of them.

"Those look harsh," Dira said. "I can't imagine any settlements in there."

Mala's brow furrowed. "Don't make assumptions. The Sithras said they broke off from the main group of Sith, right? It would make sense that any settlements on Korriban would need to be hidden from them. Where better than an inhospitable and inaccessible mountain range?"

"You have a point."

"I'm going in."

"It'll be difficult to see anything in there."

"Good thing we have the Force on our side, isn't it?" Mala smirked and dove the ship down into a narrow valley. It twisted and turned, and Mala moved with it. She knew that they needed to be taking their time and searching carefully, but she couldn't resist the urge to up the speed. She loved to watch the walls and rocks pass by in a blur. She glanced out the corner of her eye to see Dira's hands in a white-knuckled grip on the edge of her seat. "What, don't you trust my skills?"

"Of course." Mala swung down underneath a rocky outgrowth with no more than a meter of space on all sides. Dira's eyes closed. "If I didn't, then I wouldn't let you pilot. However, fear is a natural reaction to anything the subconscious perceives as dangerous stimuli."

Mala turned the shuttle on its side to pass through the narrow valley between two cliffs, and all of the unsecured supplies flew to the far wall. A shyrack flew at them, and she dropped altitude to avoid it. The supplies bounced along the wall. Dira placed one hand over her mouth and opened her eyes again. She was looking rather pale. Mala hoped she wouldn't vomit in here. Especially since gravity would cause the vomit to fall on her, rather than into Dira's own lap. "I find it interesting that you're capable of using words like 'subconscious' and 'stimuli' when you're about to piss yourself. You really have control over your emotions, don't you?"

Dira's words were muffled under her hand. "I try."

The shuttle righted itself as the valley widened, then all of the supplies went flying forward when Mala brought the shuttle to an abrupt stop. Mala's bag, which had been carelessly thrown into the back, slammed into Dira's head.

"Ow!" Dira raised one hand to rub the spot. "Be glad that we're both competent healers! You may have given me a concussion!"

Mala didn't respond; she could only stare at the mountain before them. It took Dira a moment before she turned to look. A large opening was carved into the rock, and two large claw-like arms formed an arch around the entrance.

"Is that it?" Dira asked.

Mala nodded, her face blank of emotion. "It's in better shape than I expected. It looks practically untouched."

"The mountains probably shielded it somewhat from the elements. Well, it looks like there's room to land here."

"Yeah." Mala dropped the ship down and they began to unload. She felt uneasy here, which was just another sign that they were in the right place.

They set up their camp in the entrance hall, where they could easily escape to the shuttle if necessary. Once that was done, they set out to explore the ruins. They were smaller than Mala expected. It wasn't a full hidden city, but appeared to be a small military outpost.

They ran across a computer terminal near the center of the complex, but left it alone until they'd finished mapping out the entire layout and sent it up to Mala's computer on the ship. Before leaving her quarters, she had placed all of their information on the Sithras into a single file and made a program that would transfer it to Malak and Halae if they didn't return from the planet within two weeks. That way, even if something should happen to the two of them, someone would still know about the danger the Sithras posed.

After Mala finished the transfer, they returned to the computer room. This one, like the other, had a number of metal tomes on the shelves, and Dira immediately set to work scanning them.

Mala stepped up to the control crystal. "I'm going to activate it now, Master Dira."

The old woman looked up at this announcement, but said nothing. Mala hated it when she did that.

She placed her hands on the crystal. The activation of the computer wasn't as frightening as it had been before, now that she was expecting it. It was just as uncomfortable, however. This projection looked different from the previous one. It was obviously of the same species, though this one appeared to be a female. Her skin was a deeper red, and her face was narrower and more angular.

"This archive unit has been inactive for 892 solar revolution cycles," it said. "You match no known lifeforms. State your query."

This one seemed more terse than the previous unit. Was that some sort of leftover from the person who had been put into the computer? "I am General Revan, commander of the Jedi Expeditionary Task Force. This woman with me is Captain Dira Rimora, one of my former masters."

"State your query."

"This unit is not the only Sithras computer I have encountered. At the previous unit, I was unable to learn much of your culture before I was... forced to leave. My master and I have been studying the tomes that we received at that location, but we have been unable to decipher your language. We wish to learn to read and understand it, that we may study your writings."

"Very well. Stand by."

Mala wondered if it was preparing to boot a tutoring program when she suddenly felt something in her mind, and she threw up her defenses. Had the other unit communicated her failure of the security check, and now this one was attempting to finish the job? That theory was dashed as the computer easily slipped through her barriers, and she felt no pain. She heard Dira gasp behind her.

"Transfer complete."

This time when the computer spoke, she understood the words themselves, rather than simply the meaning behind them. She looked to one of the carvings on the wall and read the words running across the top. "Cultural Archive Unit, Korriban Division."

When Mala spoke, she attempted to do so in the Sithras language. She was somehow unsurprised when it came easily to her tongue. "You've transferred knowledge of your language, written and spoken, into our minds. How did you accomplish this?"

"It is a variant of a basic Force technique. The technique requires a living proficient of the language and the forceful removal of the knowledge. This unit's former existence as a living being allows for a more gentle transfer."

Mala glanced back at Dira, who was now reading through the one of the volumes as she scanned it. Mala looked back to the computer.

"Tell me of the Sithras."


	3. The Dark Side

When Mala was a padawan, Dira had been the head archivist of the Dantooine academy. Mala would spend her days studying in the archive, while her nights were devoted to Force and combat training. Whenever they had the chance, they would leave the academy to explore the latest findings on some Outer Rim dig. The time in the Sithras ruins of Korriban contained that same feverish gorging on knowledge, and Mala soaked it all in.

While her inner scholar was thrilled at the new knowledge, the soldier part of her mind found it disturbing. She had always known that there were certain things that were lost to history. A species would go unexpectedly extinct, or a war's causes would go unexplained. It was simply a fact. As she learned more of Sithras history and actions, she found that these holes were being filled in. The Sithras didn't like to engage in direct military actions, preferring to achieve their goals more subtly. They would manipulate two groups into war, or into destroying their own civilization from the inside to make room for Sithras expansion.

The current conflict with the Mandalorians had bothered Mala for some time, as she couldn't pinpoint what exactly had caused Mandalore to challenge the Republic. A small part of her was beginning to fear that the Sith had their eyes set on the Republic, and had turned to their favorite tactics again.

When they received the call that the supply ships had come through and that the supply line had been broken, they returned to the ship and Mala changed her tactics immediately. If the Sithras wanted to weaken both sides with this war, she wasn't going to aid them. No more production facilities or mining outposts were to be destroyed. The senate wondered if she was becoming too soft, but she ignored them.

The final step in her new strategy was more troubling. She had come up with a plan long ago that would put a quick end to the war, but she had been reluctant to use it. The body count would be enormous. She now put a team of technicians on the job of developing the equipment that would be needed.

Another matter that needed to be addressed was that of Mala's two closest friends. They noticed the change in tactics, and began asking questions. Mala did what she could to avoid them, but there was only so much she could do without raising even more suspicions. She and Dira debated long and hard over whether or not to include them in the secret of the Sithras. The final conclusion was to leave them out until they knew more; there was no need to worry them until then. Also, some part of Mala was still ashamed at the contact she'd had with the Dark Side, and she wasn't looking forward to admitting it.

Their greatest asset in their intelligence gathering was the ruins. Whenever they had the chance, she or Dira would pay a visit. They found them on several worlds, and each one taught them more. With each visit, however, Mala grew more frustrated. The ruins served as further evidence of the existence of the Sithras, but there was still no proof that they were anything but an extinct society. Every archive unit that they found bore the same security lock as the others, and all of the writings were far out of date.

They needed to obtain security clearance. The only solution was to defend herself completely from the computer's probe. With that in mind, she began to train with Dira.

It was after one of these training sessions that she sat in her quarters, dejected. Once again, Dira had broken through.

"Perhaps we're approaching from the wrong angle," Dira said.

"What do you mean?" Mala asked. She laid down on her bed, exhausted. "We can't hack a Force projection. We don't know where to look for the main body of the Sithras, and they'd probably kill us if we did manage to find them. I can't think of any other options."

"You're limiting yourself. The security check doesn't require you to completely defend yourself from the attack, only to prove that you are capable of defending yourself against any reasonable attempts that might be made against you in an interrogation."

"But the moment the computer reaches past my defenses and sees that I follow the Light Side, I fail." She said. "If it sees anything other than the Dark Side in my mind, it'll all be for nothing." Dira looked at her with an all-too-familiar expression. She'd received it during her time as a padawan whenever she had failed to see a simple solution that stood before her. "Oh. You mean... oh."

"And now she sees."

Mala sat up. "I really hope not. It sounds like you're suggesting I fall to the Dark Side."

"Is it truly a fall when you jump from the precipice?"

Mala could hardly believe her ears. Dira was her master! One of her major duties was to prevent the fall of her students. Mala stood and began to pace. "I don't... No. No, I won't do it. I could never do that!"

"You have already touched the Dark Side once, and you are not fallen. Would this be so different?"

"Yes! Before... it was only a moment. I doubt that these terminals would be fooled by that."

"True, you would need a deeper connection with the Dark Side. It need not last, though."

"And how do you expect me to go back? Everyone knows that the Dark Side is addictive."

"Jedi have turned from the Dark Side before."

"That's extremely rare, and I don't imagine myself capable of it."

"Perhaps that's why it's so rare. All Jedi have been taught that they are not capable, so they don't try."

Mala stopped pacing and bit her lip. Her master's words made some level of sense. Still, all she had been taught by her other teachers said this was a dangerous path. "I don't know, master."

"If you would rather sit by and allow the Sithras to continue their actions in the galaxy without opposition, then do. Or we can continue this fruitless training. It is up to you." Dira stood. "In any case, I shall head down to the mess. Halae and Malak should be here by now. Shall Revan or Mala be joining us?"

Mala sighed as she thought of her friends. Their ships were all in the same area for a week as part of a standard refit, and Mala had been looking forward to seeing them. "Mala will, I think. Revan can't exactly socialize freely. Just give me time to shower, and I'll be right down."

"Then I shall see you shortly." She walked to the door and opened it, but stopped before walking through. She turned around to face Mala. "If it helps, I think that if anyone can do this, it's you." She walked out and the door closed behind her.

\- - - - -

Mala headed into the shower as soon as Dira was gone. She couldn't stop thinking about Dira's words. It was hard to wrap her mind around the fact that she could make such a suggestion. She knew that the woman had always held contempt for the Jedi's stringent beliefs on the matters of Dark and Light, but this was too much.

 _Is it truly a fall if you jump from the precipice?_

Was that really the crucial difference? She knew of no Jedi who intentionally made the choice to go to the Dark Side.

A somewhat more disturbing thought came to her. Would it still be worth it if she could never return to the Light?

She shook her head and switched off the shower. She didn't need to be thinking of this right now. Her friends were expecting her, and she was going to enjoy her meal with them. She could return to this issue after that, when her head was more clear.

She dressed and pulled her hair back in its customary bun. A quick check on the hallway security camera showed it to be empty, so she was safe to leave. She enjoyed the anonymity granted by her plain brown robes as she headed down to the mess. Thanks to this refit, there were enough Jedi on this ship that she drew no notice from the soldiers.

She spotted her friends immediately upon entering the room. Their small round table was surrounded by a ring of empty ones, which nearly caused Mala to laugh. Apparently Revan's inner circle was frightening enough to create a wide personal perimeter. She noticed a few odd looks from others in the room as she crossed the invisible line and took a seat between Malak and Halae.

"Mala!" Halae squeezed her hand warmly. Mala would never understand her penchant for physical contact. It wasn't that Mala disliked it, necessarily. She simply felt no need for it. "It's so good to see you again. It feels like it's been forever."

"Agreed," Malak said. He slid a full plate of food to her. "How have you been?"

"Fine, fine. Leading armies, all of that. What about you? I seem to have missed your report on the Demagol trial."

"Ah, that. Well, it's over, more or less."

Mala considered asking further, but something in his expression told her not to. She turned to Halae as the woman addressed a question to her.

"What about that emergency that took Dira away from me? Is that resolved?"

"What, Master Dira hasn't talked about it?" She glanced to Dira. They had forgotten to work out a story to explain that, she realized now.

"She dodged the question."

"I did not," Dira said firmly. "If my answer wasn't up to your high expectations, you needed only to say so, and I would have elaborated."

"All she said was that it was a temporary situation, but that she won't be coming back to me. Rather than spend an hour trying to pull the information out of her," she shot a playful glare at the old woman, "I thought I'd just ask you when you came down."

"Ah," Mala said. "Because I'm so much simpler and more straightforward than her?"

Halae smirked. "Being simpler than Dira isn't hard."

"Good point. Well, she's really right. I don't want to go into details, because it's kind of embarrassing." Being vague sounded like the best course of action here, and Dira had clearly set the precedent.

"Then you definitely need to," Alek said, leaning forward. "What, did some star-struck soldier get you pregnant? Did you accidentally send a strike team to a facility that constructs sewage systems?"

Mala laughed. "No, nothing quite so interesting. But I'd rather not talk about it. And no, Halae, you won't be getting her back. I have her working on a project."

"And the vagueness continues!" Halae said with a laugh. "What's the project?"

"Yes, anything interesting?" Malak asked.

"Not to you," Mala said. "I'm looking into some potential new tactics, and I need her expertise as a historian."

"How does a historian have use in tactics?"

"Kindly don't discuss me as if I'm not present," Dira said. "And I somehow doubt that you'd be capable of following an explanation, Malak." Mala hoped that Dira knew where they was going with this, because she had no clue.

"Try me."

"We're looking into the tactics used by the Nations of Zhell against the Taungs during their early conflicts as well as attempting to draw similarities for a comparison between Mandalore's actions and those taken by Xer VIII during the Cronese Sweeps. Of course the parallels aren't perfect due to the differences between our hyperdrive technology and their lighthouse network. We're hoping that some of Kossak the Hutt's strategies at the battle of Vontor can provide some examples for us to follow."

Malak stared at her with a blank expression.

She smirked. "I suspected as much."

Mala and Halae laughed. While Malak wasn't stupid by any means, he had never shown the interest in history that they had.

They spent the next hour catching up. Mala had missed her friends immensely, and their return lifted a weight from her shoulders. It reminded her of what she fought for. After a time, Dira's comm went off, informing her that her shuttle was ready.

She stood and gathered the things from her tray. "Well, I suppose I should be off."

Halae's brow furrowed. "Where are you going?"

"Oh, just a minor errand. I should be back before you finish your refit." The planet they were orbiting had a small Sithras outpost on it, which might contain records of military actions.

"Good luck," Mala said with a nod. She watched her master disappear into the hall.

As soon as she was gone, Halae leaned forward conspiratorially. "So, how are things?"

"Fine," Mala said. She finally turned to the plate of food that Malak had given to her when she sat down. "I think we may have the Mandies on the run before long."

"Not what I meant. We can talk business any time. I was thinking more personally. You seem distracted."

There was no point lying to Halae about her emotions. She knew them better than Mala did, at times. "I suppose I am. But it's nothing."

"You don't get distracted over nothing," Malak said. Mala stared at him. "Well, all right, you do. But this isn't nothing."

"It's just..." She hesitated as she looked at her friends. She hadn't told them initially because of her brief touch with the Dark Side, but if she decided to go with Dira's plan... She somehow doubted she would be able to hide it from them. The thought of having their support also comforted her. "Dira gave me one of her hypotheticals today."

"I thought she wasn't your master anymore," Malak said.

"She might not be my official master," Mala said, "but she never stops being a teacher. It's a bad habit of hers."

"So what moral decision did she put before you today?" Halae asked. Dira was well known for testing them with hypothetical moral quandaries. They weren't designed with a correct solution in mind, and were simply an exercise to get them thinking.

"It was a little unusual. If you discovered a threat to the galaxy and the only way to save everyone was to intentionally go to the Dark Side, would you do it?"

"That's simple," Halae said.

Malak nodded. "I mean, the galaxy is at stake, right? The loss of one Jedi to the Dark Side is really nothing compared to that." Mala's heart lifted. He thought it was reasonable to fall. He could be there by her side to help pull her back. And he was right. Her personal feelings meant nothing when the galaxy was on the line.

"Are you insane?" Halae said, her eyes wide. "The Dark Side is never a viable option! There must be some other way to save the galaxy. I can't imagine any circumstances where it would be the only option. And besides, the Dark isn't stronger than the Light, just easier."

Mala's spirits fell again. Was Halae right? They had both always subscribed to the theory that there were always options, no matter what the situation was. Sometimes you just couldn't see them all. What wasn't she seeing?

Maybe she really was seeing everything. Just because there were other options, didn't mean they were good. No, she had thought long and hard on this. They could either lose, keep up their futile attempts at training, or fall. She just needed to get Halae to see that.

"But what if there was such a circumstance?" Mala asked. "If you'd searched for some other solution but couldn't find one? And what if you would go back to the Light after?"

"No. You can't simply switch sides like that. Once the Dark Side has you, you're trapped. And there is always another solution."

Mala nodded and poked at her cold food with her fork. She felt sick. She pushed her plate away. "I think I need to go back to my quarters. I have a lot of work to do."

Halae clutched at Mala's sleeve as she stood. "Are you alright? Do you want some help?"

"I'm fine. It's just that the senate has really been riding me about justifying my actions lately. You know how it is. Bureaucrats." Halae didn't release her. "I'm fine. Promise. I'll see you two later."

She pulled away and walked off. As soon as she was out of sight of the mess hall, she broke into a run. She needed the isolation of her quarters. Now.

\- - - - -

After an intense day of deliberation, Mala finally called Dira and told her that she would be coming to access the computer soon. Dira was irritatingly unsurprised.

Mala had only one thing to do before heading down. She called Malak to her quarters and briefed him. He took it surprisingly well. All that he wanted to know was how he could help. They were in a shuttle on the way to the planet less than an hour later. Mala wished that Halae could be there with them, but she knew that was impossible. Halae still bore some loyalty to the council, and would never let them get away with this.

Dira was waiting for them in the computer room when they arrived. She looked between the two of them and the crease in her forehead deepened with confusion. "Where is Halae?"

"She isn't coming," Mala said. "And she won't be finding out about this."

If Mala had been expecting questions, she was to be disappointed. The woman only nodded. "Very well. Shall we begin?"

Mala nodded and stepped up to the computer. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Her heart was beating faster and harder than she thought it ever had. It was strange, trying to touch the Dark Side intentionally.

She focused on the same feelings she had used to escape the ruins before. Her hatred of the Mandalorians began to bloom in her mind. She thought of Serroco and Cathar. The power began to rise within her. Still, she knew it wasn't enough. The machine wouldn't be fooled by a small font of Dark Side energy within her. She needed to fall. Her fear grew stronger.

She attempted to fall into her hatred, but was unable to draw deep enough. Her fear of the Dark Side was blocking it. She needed more fuel. She tried to remember everything she could about the Mandalorian atrocities. Demagol's experiments came to mind, and Malak's bald head as a result. The death of numerous Jedi under her command. It wasn't enough.

"Damn it!" Mala pounded her fist into the terminal, and winced at the pain. She looked down and saw bloody red scrapes across her knuckles. Years of training automatically brought the Jedi code to her mind at the pain and anger, and then it hit her. The code of the Sith. She had learned the words years ago as part of her studies with Dira. Mala closed her eyes again.

"Peace is a lie," she whispered, her words coming in the hissing language of the Sithras. Behind her, she heard Malak whisper something to Dira, who shushed him. "There is only passion." She allowed herself to slip further into the Dark Side, pushing aside the barrier. "Through passion, I gain strength." Her hands gripping the edge of the console tightened, and she focused on the pain of the harsh stone cutting into her skin. "Through strength, I gain power." The Dark Side energy in the room began to crackle, and she embraced it. "Through power, I gain victory." The barriers in her mind were weakened, and she batted them aside. Malak whispered again, and was again silenced. "Through victory, my chains are broken." A mural on the wall exploded. Revan opened her eyes. "The Force shall free me."

She placed her hands on the crystal.

This time, the activation of the computer barely affected her at all. She felt a rushing of power through her body before the lights flashed and the projection appeared. This time it was of a shapely Sithras woman.

"This archive unit has seen recent use. You match the genetic signature of the previous user. State your query."

"I am Revan. I wish to know of all current Sithras activities outside of their own occupied space."

"That information requires security access. Do you wish to apply for clearance?"

"Yes."

"Stand by."

She was expecting the mental assault this time, and threw up a shield immediately. Her head began to ache, and she fed on the pain to fuel her strength. It wasn't long before time lost all meaning, wrapped up in the world of mental probes and feigns. She felt as if she were directing a battle, trying to prevent the enemy from breaching their lines. Finally, the assault stopped. She'd passed! The computer had been unable to get past her! She lowered her shields a bit.

Then the final strike hit. She staggered back from the terminal, her shields shattered. She opened her eyes and stared at the projection, readying herself for the consequences of failure.

"Security access granted."

Revan laughed in victory. It had left her drained, but she felt somehow energized, all the same. "Now give me a summary of all current Sithras activities."

"There are sapient lifeforms present without security access."

She turned back to look at the others. "Leave. Wait in the antechamber."

"But Master," Malak began. Mala turned her gaze fully upon him, and he froze. "Yes, Master."

Revan turned to Dira. "Will you argue?"

"I see no point in fighting losing battles."

Revan smiled. "I knew there was a reason I respected you."

Dira and Malak filed out, leaving Revan alone with the computer.

"Now, speak."

"As you say. The Order of Darth are currently engaging in war instigation efforts in the inner galaxy. Communication with the Taung known as Mandalore has resulted in the successful beginning of a war with the Republic, the major power within the inner galaxy. Communications are also in place with key members of the Republic senate and their staff. Most are unaware. Senator Ardana Cah, however, is fully aware, and has proven most useful at war extension efforts."

"Ardana Cah?" Ardana Cah was leading the group in the senate that felt that Revan's new tactics were too soft. She was pushing for more drastic measures, with more collateral damage. "Is she aware of communications with the Sithras?"

"Yes. She has proven most susceptible to the threat of revealing the extent of her monetary contributions."

"Are the Sithras in communication with any others within the inner galaxy?"

"Yes. There is a large extent of agents under Sithras influence, aware or unaware."

"Give me a list."

Revan spent the next few hours locked in that room, being briefed on everything her level of clearance allowed. She was amazed at the full extent of their actions. Not only had they pushed Mandalore into the war, they'd done far simpler things. Sithras instigators were even behind the assassination attempt on the Tarisian senator. That event had been a mere footnote in the reports on the Taris situation, but it would have radically altered the political atmosphere of the senate.

As she learned, she took copious notes. When she finally turned off the unit, her datapad was brimming with information. She had the names, pictures, and functions of every Sithras operative in the galaxy, their current operations, the location of their safehouses, and even the hyperspace routes needed to reach the Sithras homeworld.

With the unit off and the datapad safely stored in her robes, she moved to the antechamber to meet with Malak and Dira.

Dira was kneeling on the floor in a meditative pose, while Malak appeared to be napping in the crook of a Sithras statue. Dira immediately opened her eyes when Revan entered the room.

"Malak," Revan said, her voice at conversational volume. When he didn't respond, she flicked her hand, and a small rock flew into Malak's cheek.

He jerked awake immediately. Upon spying Revan, he hopped down from the statue. "How long was I asleep? Did you start a garden in there?"

"Very amusing," Dira said coldly. "Now, Revan, what did you learn?"

"A great deal," Revan began. Malak and Dira began to approach. "For a start, Senator Cah is taking bribes, and is being blackmailed by the Sithras into doing whatever they want. I propose-"

"Force," Malak muttered.

Revan glared at him. "What?"

"You... your eyes."

"My eyes are somewhat distinctive, I understand, but it's taken you all of these years to realize that they're gray?"

"Not gray. Yellow."

"What?"

"He's correct," Dira said. "Your eyes seem to have changed color. I'd heard of such things occurring, of course, but the Dark Side rarely manifests physical changes without prolonged exposure. Years, or at least months."

"Perhaps it's related to the strength of the connection, rather than the duration," Revan said. She shrugged. "In any case, I have a great deal of information, but the dear senator should be our first priority."

"Mala," Malak said. She turned her cold gaze towards him again. "Are you... going back?"

"Back?"

"The Light Side. That was the plan, wasn't it?"

She stared at him. How could he suggest that? She could crush Senator Cah's heart like this, and no one would know the cause of her death. Why would she turn away from it? "Are you mad?"

"Are you?"

"You can sense my power, Malak! With power like this, we could easily stop the Mandalorians and the Sithras!"

"I can sense it," he said, his voice cold. "You're powerful. That's not what I'm arguing about."

"Then what? Are you jealous of my abilities? Do you wish you could be me?" She raised a hand, and Malak began to rise into the air. "I hate to tell you this, but I've always been stronger than you, and I always will be. This just makes it a little more obvious. Why can't you understand that this will be worth it?"

Revan clenched her fist, and Malak's hands went to his throat. The veins and tendons stood out starkly, and he gasped for air.

"Revan," Dira said sharply.

Revan released her hand, and Malak fell to the floor, heaving in great lungfuls of air. As soon as he could speak, he did. "I understand, damn it! Of course I do." He coughed. "Hell, if I was in your position, I'd probably do the same thing. I understand. Dira understands. But what about Halae? Do you think she'll understand?"

Revan's eyes widened as the image of her best friend came into her mind. "Halae?"

"Yeah. Sure, you can win this war like this. And the next one, and the next one. But will she be there with you?"

"No."

"Are you willing to accept that?"

Revan didn't speak for a long time. When she finally did, it was so silent that the others strained to hear.

"No."

She closed her eyes and allowed thoughts of Halae to fill her mind. It was difficult. They kept slipping away, being replaced with thoughts of the things she could do with the power coursing through her veins. "Help me."

With those words, the power began to leave her. Malak added his strength to hers, and she could feel him drawing her away from the Dark. After a moment, the power was gone, and she fell to her knees, shaking.

Malak rushed to her and grabbed her arm to pull her up. "Is that it? All clear?"

She nodded. She could feel it pushing at her mind, however. It was terrifying.

Dira came up on her other side to help her up. "I suspect you may have to deal with the aftereffects of this for some time."

"Great." She looked up at Malak. "Thanks for helping me."

He stared at her.

Mala sighed. "What now?"

"It's just... your eyes are still yellow. I thought they'd go back."

"What?" Mala said. She pulled out her datapad and used the screen as a mirror. It was dark and the colors were distorted, but the eyes that met hers were definitely not her usual gray. "How am I supposed to look Halae in the eyes with these?"

"A mask?"

She turned and glared at Malak. "Because she'll never notice that."

"You already wear it most of the time."

"Yeah, but not with her." Mala sighed. "Maybe if I just get some rest, it'll go away."

"Yes," Dira said. "A good night's sleep is often the cure for Dark Side cosmetic changes."

"You are not helping!"

"I'm simply trying to inject some realism into this conversation. Now come along, we should pack up and get back up to the fleet."

Mala was still weak, so they helped her into the shuttle. By the time they docked with the ship, Mala was able to walk on her own, though with difficulty. She kept her gaze down during the trip and they took a longer path to avoid the more crowded corridors. As soon as they opened the door to her quarters, she rushed to her mirror to stare at her reflection.

"Well," she said, pulling down one eyelid. "It... might go unnoticed. In dim lighting. From a distance. Do you suppose the med bay could fit me up with some colored contacts?"

"They might," Malak said. "I can go down and see."

"Please do."

Malak bowed and left, and Mala felt far too exhausted to tell him off for the gesture. She collapsed on the bed. "Did we do the right thing, Dira?"

"Yes. I'm certain of it."

"Good. At least someone is."

"We need to decide what to do."

"Can't it wait until Malak gets back?"

"We don't have much time. We need to find something to do about the senator, at the very least."

Mala sighed. She was right, of course. "Blackmail her into stepping down?"

"Considering that the Sithras are also blackmailing her, I somehow doubt that our threats will be of more consequence."

"Bribery? We know she's susceptible."

"I can't imagine the amount of funds it would take to beat out the Sithras threats."

"We could expose her bribery. She'd be forced to resign."

"True, but she would still wield great influence amongst her supporters. And there are many."

"I'm sorry, Master Dira, but I can't think of much else right now. Maybe after I get some sleep, I'll have something." She rolled over onto her side in an attempt to get more comfortable. "Unless you think we should have her assassinated, which I somehow doubt."

Dira was silent.

Mala rolled over again to look at her old master. "Master Dira? Please tell me you are not considering assassinating a senator."

"That is... an unpleasant word."

"Master, I can't believe... And who will do it? You? Will you sneak into her home, look her in the eye, and drive your lightsaber through her heart?"

Just as she spoke, the door opened and Malak walked in. "Who are we killing?"

"Senator Cah," Mala said. She glared at Dira. "And we aren't."

"Um... okay." He stepped up to her bed and placed a small case on the bedside table. "Well, this is the best the med bay can do. They might not be a complete match, but they should work so long as no one you know well gets close."

"So... Halae."

"Pretty much. So what's this about assassinating a senator? Or rather, not assassinating a senator?"

"Dira wants to kill Senator Cah."

He sat down on the edge of the bed. "Well, it makes sense. I don't know of any other ways to remove Sithras influence in the senate."

"We aren't doing it!" She turned away from them. "Even if we wanted to, none of us could get away from the fleet long enough without notice."

"Who says we need to?"

Mala rolled back towards him. "You're thinking of hiring someone?"

"Well, not exactly. When I was doing all of that business with Adascorp and the exogorths, I saw that they were using assassin droids."

Dira scoffed. "Such crude devices."

Mala ignored her and sat up. "Yes, I remember your report. I hadn't thought..."

"HK models. They were good. Sending them up against a group of heavily armed Jedi, Republic soldiers, and Mandalorians was unwise, of course, but I think they'd make fine assassins. Especially if you worked one of them over."

Mala leaned forward with her elbows on her knees. "I thought you said they were all destroyed, though. Adasca bought all of them, and they were destroyed at Omonoth."

"We were able to recover a fair bit from the wreck of the _Arkanian Legacy_. I doubt any are still operational, but there should be enough of one for you to repair, or at least to build another."

"I hardly think this should be necessary," Dira said. "Surely we can do better than husks of wires and circuits."

"Wires and circuits don't question orders," Mala said softly. "They don't need explanations and they don't give under torture." A part of her still didn't like this plan. Assassination was wrong. Then again, so was the Dark Side, and that hadn't gone horribly wrong. She looked at Malak. "Get me the droid or the schematics. I'll see what I can do."


	4. The Rakatan Infinite Empire

The contacts weren't dark enough and they made her eyes itch after prolonged wear. She wore them only when she was absolutely unable to get away with wearing her mask, and she avoided such situations as much as possible. She also avoided Halae, as she was the only one likely to notice the difference. Mala was able to hurry the unit's refit so that Halae was gone before long. By the time she left, Mala was certain that Halae knew something was wrong. While Mala was pained that she couldn't confide in her friend, she knew that sending her away was the best thing she could do. After Halae was gone and Mala no longer had to spend time pretending to socialize, her work was able to begin in earnest.

She was impressed with how quickly Malak was able to get her one of the droids. Before the refit had been completed, a damaged assassin droid stood in her quarters. She went to work immediately. A part of her mind was still convinced that this was no more than an intellectual exercise. She didn't often get to mess with droids anymore, so it was a nice change of pace.

She had never been as good with the hardware as Halae, but she was able to repair the damage taken at Omonoth and even make some improvements. The software, however, was where she excelled. It was outfitted with the best of everything. The targeting computers were top-of-the-line, its databanks were filled with all kinds of relevant information on poisons and weapon systems, and it had slicing protocols to rival any organic being. The system which topped them all, though, was the security buffers. After she was done, she would have dared anyone to trace the droid to her in the event of its capture.

Dira was with her as she put the final touches on the droid. "Why do you like this thing so much?"

Mala sighed. She'd lost count of how often Dira had expressed those sentiments in the past month. "What, exactly, is your problem with droids?"

"I simply don't like the idea of relying on objects which are dead to the Force."

"And yet you rely on your lightsaber."

"I do not! I simply acknowledge its usefulness and utilize it for a limited purpose."

"As do I. I don't hope to replace my whole army with droids. I only want to make use of them where they fit the purpose."

Dira grumbled, but offered no specific rebuttal. Even she had to admit that the droid would be of use here. "And you're certain that it won't reveal that you were the one who sent it??" the old woman asked.

"As certain as I can be," Mala responded, closing the central control panel and stepping back. "It has so many memory partitions, I doubt that even I could break through them all." She surveyed her work. It still looked a great deal like the original model, though the upgraded chassis did look slightly different. It was still deactivated, so there was no way to be absolutely certain of the effects of her work.

"Are you going to activate it?"

"I... don't know."

"It won't be of much use as an assassin like this."

"I know. But... should I?"

"Well, I suppose you don't have to, though you seemed rather set on using this thing. Still, if you'd rather attempt to remove Senator Cah by telling the senate that she's being blackmailed by an ancient evil order of Sith manipulators, feel free to do so. Of course, they might have some trouble believing you. To prove it to them you would have to reveal our actions, which would get to the Jedi, who would have some rather unpleasant things to say about it. Then you would also be tipping off the Sithras, of course. I'm certain they would be able to put an end to your life or at the very least remove you from power if they knew you were working against them. You could also attempt to kill her yourself, though you seem unwilling to do so."

Mala sighed and hung her head. "You're right. You're always right." She opened the panel again and switched on the droid.

It straightened up immediately and flexed its fingers. "Statement: HK-47 is active and ready for orders."

"HK-47, run a systems diagnostic."

"Running," the droid said. After a moment, it spoke again. "Analysis: All systems in working order. Ready for orders, Master Revan."

Dira raised a brow.

"I thought it would be best if he referred to me as Revan," Mala said. "And lots of people call me Master. Even Malak does it when I'm wearing the mask. Besides, he's a droid. Droids refer to their owners as masters."

"I said nothing. Well, are you going to send it on its way?"

"Not yet. I want to put him through his paces first. HK-47, will you accompany me to the shuttle bay?"

"Agreement: Yes, master, if that is your desire. Are we to kill some form of organic life while there?"

"Um... not in the shuttle bay, no. Not on the ship at all."

"Dejected surrender: Very well, master. I will do as you order."

"Mala," Dira said with a slight quaver in her voice. Mala wondered if it might be from fear, until she saw the woman's expression. She was clearly holding back laughter. "Did you mean for it to do that?"

"Well... I thought it would be best if he enjoyed his work. Do you think I overdid it?"

"I think that would be an incredible understatement."

"Well, in any case, I'm taking him down to the planet to test his capabilities. Care to come along?"

"Hmm... should I stay aboard the ship or go down with you and the untested modified assassin droid? Shall I think about that for a moment?"

"Do you have no faith in me?"

"In this matter? None whatsoever."

Mala sighed. "Fine, do what you will. I'll let you know how it goes. HK-47, don't speak to anyone unless spoken to. And when you are spoken to, you are to claim to be a protocol droid. Understood?"

"Statement: Yes, master. I am a protocol droid designed to facilitate communications and terminate hostilities."

Dira had to laugh a little at that. "Did you program that, or did it do it all on its own?"

"I'm not sure. I like it, though. Come on, HK."

She donned her mask for the trek through the ship. Before long, they were down on the planet, and HK was performing beautifully. It was only after hours of rigorous testing before Mala was completely satisfied, however, and they came aboard again.

They returned to her quarters, and Mala stood back to appraise the droid. She was pleased with her work, certainly. He was probably the most impressive thing she had ever built. Unfortunately, she could no longer pretend that he was nothing more than a fun project. It was time to decide what he would be.

"Query: Master, is there something about my design that is troubling you? I was under the impression that I was performing to specification."

"Don't worry, HK. You're fine. Better than fine, actually. You're amazing." She sighed. "No. I was just thinking about the reason I built you."

"Suggestion: Perhaps it was for the purpose of perforating the skull or chest cavity of an organic life form?"

Mala wasn't sure if she should laugh at that or not. "Well, that's the question, isn't it? Tell me, HK, what do you know about Senator Ardana Cah?"

"Proud answer: I have been programmed with the latest up-to-date intelligence on all members of the Republic senate, master."

"Give me an assessment of the best possible assassination plans for her."

"Analysis: Senator Cah spends a great deal of time at her vacation home on Alderaan. It has minimal security when not in use, and certain types of poisons would be undetectable if laced into upholstery for later absorption into the skin. Senator Cah also has clandestine meetings with various special interest groups during which she takes along a much smaller retinue of bodyguards. These meetings often take place in unsecured areas, and could easily be rigged with explosives. Senator Cah rarely employs food testing, and toxins could be added to her meals with little difficulty. Senator Cah-"

"Thank you, HK, that's enough." The droid had been sounding more and more eager as it progressed. "Just... we're going to be docking at Yablari soon. When we do, I want you to slip off the ship and attend to the senator. It needs to look like an accident. Avoid additional casualties if possible."

"Affirmative. Am I to be issued any weapons?"

"I can give you some money for purchases, but you cannot be seen leaving the ship with any weapons."

"Affirmative."

Mala stood and gave him several hundred credits from her personal funds. "We'll be docking after our next hyperspace jump. Will you need anything else from me?"

"Negative, master."

"Good. Then... I have somewhere to be. Good luck. Find me after you've taken care of the senator."

She put on her mask and left the room. A part of her wanted to go back in and rescind the orders, but she resisted. The decision was made, and she had no room to question herself. She headed to the communications center in search of Dira, only to find her in the middle of a call with Halae.

"We've pushed them back from Stenos," the blonde Jedi on the other end said. "But I worry that they may be massing at Elom. If you could pass that on to Revan, I would appreciate it. Oh, Revan!" She spotted Mala approaching them as she entered the range of the pickup.

"Hello, general," Mala said.

Dira glanced back at her. "I didn't realize your shuttle had returned. Have you taken care of that droid?"

"It has its orders."

"Good. Do we have a time frame?"

"No, but I'm certain it will be soon. It's very efficient."

"Droid?" Halae asked.

"Just a minor task," Mala said. "Nothing to worry about. I was going to call you in any case, General Jasra. I have new orders for you."

"Whatever you need, Revan."

"I was hoping you'd say that. Unfortunately, these new orders are too sensitive to be relayed over unsecured channels. You are to rendezvous with the Swiftsure at Yablari as soon as possible. I will brief you there."

"Understood."

Mala tried to ignore the hopefulness in her voice. She could see the thoughts running through her friend's mind. Halae thought she would finally be let into whatever Mala had been hiding. Mala hated disappointing her.

"If that is all," Mala said, "I need to speak with Master Dira."

"Of course," Dira said. "I believe we were done here?"

"Yes," Halae said. "I'll see you both soon."

They cut the comm and Revan gestured for Dira to follow her from the room. As soon as they were in the hall, she began to speak. "I've been thinking. Perhaps the senate should not find out about our... current project."

"Elaborate, please."

"Quite simply, the Senate is going to be a problem. There will always be at least one corrupt senator to influence, or who could reveal our plans. I can't send HK after each one of them without drawing suspicion."

"So we need to fight a war without letting our allies know about it."

"Exactly. You can see the problem. Call Malak and get him to meet up with us at Yablari. We need to plan."

"I'll attend to it. Are you alright? You seem different."

Mala considered lying, but Dira knew her too well for that. "I just gave the order for an assassination. I'm doing as well as can be expected."

"You give orders for deaths all the time."

"It's different. Those are soldiers in a war. They chose to put themselves in harm's way when they joined the military. Those are honorable deaths fought in a battle. This... I told him to make it look like an accident. There is no way this is honorable. To me or her."

"She lost her honor the moment she colluded with the Sithras. And as for you, you are simply trying to save lives."

Mala could feel doubt nagging at the corners of her mind. "Can we stop talking about this now? We need to plan. Senator Cah is the most obvious link in the Sithras chain, but not the only one, by any means. I can analyze our list, and then send HK after the key members of the group. We can't take out all of them, or the Sithras will get suspicious."

"Agreed. That's the last thing we want at this stage."

"We also need to find a way to fight them directly. As I said before, the senate is a problem. They cannot know of what we're doing until it's too late for anyone to change it."

"It's rather difficult to raise an army without the senate's knowledge."

"We have our army. We need only to turn it on the Sithras."

"It isn't enough."

They reached Mala's quarters and went inside. HK was in a corner, in standby mode until they docked. Mala removed her mask, setting it on the desk. "Are you doubting our forces? I think we'll manage just fine. The Sithras may be good, but so am I."

"Arrogance has always been one of your weaknesses."

"There's a difference between arrogance and confidence." There was also a difference between confidence and the facade thereof. She had no idea what kind of forces the Sithras might be able to bring against them, and it frightened her. She was a commander, however. Commanders needed to be confident. "All the same, I'm not stupid. We have records of Sithras history. I'm sure they've changed over the years, but we can still get an idea of how they think and fight."

Dira smiled. "A true student of mine. Plan for the future by learning from the past. Hand me a datapad."

Mala took a seat at her desk and tossed a datapad to her old master. She brought up some of the records on her own terminal and began to read. She'd left most of the records to Dira, focusing instead on their current plans. It was only now that she was truly able to immerse herself in the Sithras historical tomes.

One passage gave her pause, and she read it several times.

"Master Dira, have you read this one?"

"What is the title?"

"Legacy of Adas."

"No, not yet. Have you found something?"

Mala brought it up on the large viewscreen, so that Dira could see. "This is a record from before the Sith left Korriban. 'In the final years of the rule of King Adas, Korriban was visited by a race from another world. They called themselves the Rakatan Infinite Empire, and they had conquered much of the galaxy.' Have you heard of these Rakatan?"

Dira shook her head. "But if it's from before the Sith even left Korriban, that's no great surprise. Continue, please."

Mala read on. "'They had subjugated other races, and sought to do the same to the Sith. They came with weapons of the Force and many battles were fought before King Adas repelled the invaders. This was not before acquiring one of their ships, however, and learning the secret of their interstellar travel. The Sith moved out into the galaxy and began their conquest. The Rakata were a formidable enemy, and the Sith saw no reason to fight against them at present. They waited until the right time, and then introduced a plague into their race. The Rakata were forced to abandon their holdings and retreat to their home world of Rakata Prime, with no knowledge that the Sith were the cause for their downfall. They were left unable to use any of their technology, and many of their old production plants remain in existence, possibly even the formidable Star Forge.'" Mala looked up. "That's all they have. Have you heard of this Star Forge?"

"No, I haven't. You said that this was during the reign of King Adas? I'll see if I can find anything else with information on that time period."

"I'll keep searching, too. If these Rakatan were enough of a threat that the Sith tried to avoid them, they could teach us something." She read over the final passage again. "Do you think those plants might still be working?"

"It's unlikely, but they could still have worthwhile resources. It's definitely worth looking into."

\- - - - -

Mala was able to occupy her mind with plans for the Sithras war until they reached Yablari. She barely noticed when they docked and HK-47 left. It wasn't long before Halae arrived to rendezvous, and Mala had her called to a briefing room.

She was still wearing her mask when Halae walked in. She could tell immediately that Halae was annoyed, and Mala could hardly blame her. "Is there some reason you didn't call me into your quarters?" Halae asked.

"Rumors," Mala said. "You forget that everyone is under the impression that I'm a man. Apparently stories of our close relationship have spread far out of proportion." It was only a partial lie. It was true that people believed they were sleeping together, but those rumors had existed since even before there was an official Jedi Expeditionary Task Force. There had been no recent surge in the rumors to account for this new cautiousness, but the briefing room gave an excuse for Mala to keep her mask on. Anyone could walk in at any moment.

"Can you at least turn off that ridiculous voice modulator?"

"Of course." Mala reached up and switched off the small box. "Is that better?"

"I'd rather look you in the eye, but this will do. So do you want to tell me what's going on?"

Mala sat down on the edge of the table. It left her legs to swing comically, so she leaned against it, instead. "You remember Malachor, right?"

"Of course. I remember we discussed how its gravitational anomalies could be weaponized."

"Correct."

"I also seem to recall an argument over whether or not it was a viable weapon. It would be practically impossible to ensure that none of our own people were in the range of destruction."

Now came the time for the lie. "It seems that it may become necessary. We've received some disturbing intelligence that Mandalore has a way to Coruscant itself."

Halae's eyes widened in horror. "And this would be what has been bothering you?"

"Yes. I called Dira to me when I found out about it, and I've been trying to keep it from you. I didn't want to worry you until we knew more."

"Well, you failed. So we're going to use Malachor?"

"Yes. It should take some time for Mandalore to prepare his assault, so we have a small window."

Halae nodded. "What do you need me to do?"

"I want you to command the team working on the development of the Malachor weapon. Don't worry about the oversight on the actual weapon. I'm handling that part. Just give them whatever they need. Can you do that?" Halae nodded. "I trust you understand that everything said in this room, both about the Malachor weapon and Mandalore's plans, are to remain strictly classified."

"Of course. Does Malak know yet?"

"A little. I'll brief him further when he gets here."

"When do I leave?"

"As soon as possible." Mala handed her a datapad. "This contains all of the information you'll need, as well as your official orders. Don't worry about the actual weapon too much, just keep the team running."

Halae nodded and stashed the datapad in her robes. "Got it. Well, I guess I should be off, then." She turned and began to move toward the door, but stopped. Before Mala could blink, Halae had turned around again and enveloped her in a tight embrace.

"Whoa!" Mala said, stiffening. "What's this for?"

"I don't know," Halae said, squeezing tighter. "I just felt like... like I won't get this chance again."

Mala blinked away the tears welling up in her eyes, thankful for the mask. "Don't be silly," she said. "You'll see me after you finish your work on the project. Maybe even before, if I come by to check on your progress."

"I know." Halae's voice sounded oddly thick. She pulled away and Mala's heart broke when she saw water glistening in her eyes. "I'm being silly, I guess. Don't mind me." She turned again, but this time Mala grabbed her arm. Halae looked back, her brows drawn and furrowed. "What is it?"

Mala stared at her hand. She hadn't meant to do that. Without thinking, she began to speak. "You know that you're my best friend, don't you?"

"Of course I do. Ever since we were kids."

"Yeah. Just... never forget that."

"I won't." Halae smiled reassuringly and Mala released her arm.

Mala could only watch as her best friend, one of the few people in the galaxy who she considered family, walked away from her. Halae was right. They would probably never be like this again.

\- - - - -

After Malak arrived at Yablari and received a briefing, they set up Mala's quarters as the center of operations for the Sithras war. They spent hours locked inside, leaving only when their duties or bodily functions required it. As Malak was the only one among them unable to read the Sithras language, he was assigned the task of analyzing the list of Sithras contacts, while Mala and Dira searched through the Sithras records for any further mention of the Rakata.

Mala declared the desk to be her personal work area, leaving Dira and Malak to fight over the bed. The battle was short, consisting of a single withering glare from Dira. Malak retreated to the floor without protest.

Mala had almost lost hope in finding any records of the Rakata when she found herself reading a tome which detailed the Sith's early expansion beyond Korriban. She was amazed that such bloody battles could be portrayed in such a dry and boring manner. Sleep threatened to overtake her as she skimmed across the page. Her eyes froze over a single word, and she was instantly awake.

 _Rakata_.

"I've got something," she said, holding up her hand and snapping her fingers. All eyes instantly turned towards her. "A record of a battle between the Sith and the Rakatan Infinite Empire."

"That's no great surprise," Dira said. "If the Rakata were truly a galactic force, it would only make sense that they would have more than one encounter, despite the Sith's intentions to avoid them."

"Yeah," Mala said. "But thanks to this battle, they found the location of the Star Forge."

Malak looked up from his datapad, and Dira sat up straighter.

Mala read aloud, translating into Basic for Malak's sake. "'The Rakata constantly brought reinforcements in from hyperspace, all through the same corridor. Later calculations revealed that these ships likely originated at their homeworld of Rakata Prime. One fighter was captured before the Sith retreat, and the pilot was interrogated. He revealed that the Rakatan home system contained a production facility known as the Star Forge, which was also a powerful Dark Side artifact. The Star Forge produced all of their ships and had nearly limitless output capabilities, explaining the Sith failure in the battle. The pilot did not know how the Star Forge worked or how it was constructed, but he did know that it required no resources, and was designed to last millennia without needing servicing or repairs.'" Mala set the datapad on the desk. "So that's what the Star Forge is."

"It sounds too good to be true," Malak said. "A production facility that needs no resources or repairs, just waiting out there in space."

"But it is possible," Dira said. "If it truly was a Dark Side artifact, nearly anything is possible."

"Do you think it's still out there?" Mala asked.

"Again, possible," Dira said. "The other record said that they were destroyed by an illness, not through direct battle with the Sith. They were likely forced to abandon the facility."

"What if the Sith are just exaggerating?" Malak said. "You know, to make themselves look better to later generations. The idea of losing a battle because the enemy has a magical shipyard is much better than losing because you weren't good enough. Or the Rakatan pilot could have been lying to discourage them from attacking Rakata Prime."

"I doubt it," Mala said. "I think the Sith would be able to tell when a prisoner was lying. As to the idea that they were exaggerating, that doesn't seem to be their style. The reason they kept such extensive records is because they believe in learning from the mistakes of the past. It's hard to do that when you hide all of your mistakes." She tapped the datapad. "I think this is worth pursuing."

"Is Rakata Prime marked on any of the maps you've found?"

"I think so," Dira said. She stepped up to the computer, and inserted a datapad into the port for the main viewscreen. Mala surrendered her seat to her old master. "I've compiled all of the maps, and have been attempting to index them. Yes, here it is. Rakata Prime is listed on two maps."

"Bring them up," Mala said, approaching the viewscreen. The maps were projected across it. "And where is Rakata Prime?

"Here." Dira highlighted the appropriate area on each map.

"That's deep in the Unknown Regions," Malak said.

Mala nodded. "But this could be a good thing. No one from the Republic could have found it yet."

"And how are we supposed to? We can't go jumping randomly into the Unknown Regions, and we can't just walk up to a Rakata and ask them how to get there."

Mala placed her chin in her hand and studied the map. "No, but we can get the next best thing." She pointed to one of the maps. "Master Dira, get rid of the other one. I want to focus on this." Dira did as instructed. "This map shows the major points of power in the Rakatan empire. Some of these planets have been picked over completely. Any ruins there must be long gone. Others are practically untouched. We can find the Rakata the same way we found the Sithras."

Dira nodded. "Not a bad plan."

Mala moved to the computer and Dira relinquished the seat. Mala identified all of the planets from the map, compiling a list. "Some of these places don't have breathable atmospheres anymore, so we probably wouldn't be able to explore very fully." She eliminated those planets. She began removing some of the more well-populated planets. "Coruscant, Duro, Dantooine-"

"Wait!" Dira said, holding up her hand.

Mala's hand hovered over the controls. "What?"

"Dantooine was a Rakatan planet?"

"Apparently so. I know it isn't as heavily populated as others, but we can probably still eliminate it. I think we would have noticed any Rakatan ruins there."

"One moment."

"Master Dira, we _lived_ on Dantooine. There are no Rakatan ruins there."

"The Rakatan empire existed somewhere around 25,000 to 20,000 years ago, didn't it?"

Mala sighed. Dira could be so stubborn, sometimes. "Yeah. That's about right."

Dira smirked. "My dear student, I'm surprised at you. There are Rakatan ruins on Dantooine. Furthermore, we know exactly where they are."

"What? But... no. No, we never found anything there. Well, I mean other than the stones in the grove, and..." Mala's mind flew to the ruins that stood near the grove, one of the places forbidden to padawans. Naturally, she and Halae had spent a great deal of their childhood there. "But those were burial grounds, weren't they?"

"That was only a theory. When we first established the enclave on Dantooine, I was allowed to survey the exterior of the ruins. The leading hypothesis was that they were burial grounds, but others believed they had been constructed to contain some form of Dark energy or artifact. I never quite believed either theory. Unfortunately, I was never permitted to enter and determine their purpose with any certainty."

"I hardly believe it," Mala said. "It was right in front of us for all those years."

"I remember that place," Malak said. "Didn't the Jedi seal it?"

"They did," Dira said, "But it wouldn't be difficult to break the seal. It requires only a sufficiently powerful Force-user. Any of us could do it. I had half a mind to do it when I was surveying the place."

"So we've found our ruins," Malak said. "That was easier than I expected."

"There's still a problem," Mala said. "The Jedi might not want us arrested any more, but I doubt they'd like it if we showed up on their planet and broke into their sealed ruins. We won't be allowed anywhere near them."

"We could go in disguise."

"I don't think any disguise would be good enough to conceal the Swiftsure." Mala placed a palm on one of the walls for emphasis. "And I'm not leaving the fleet until the war is over."

"Don't you think this might be more important than the Mandalorians?" Dira asked.

"No." Mala sighed and sat down, attempting to gather her thoughts into words. "Your problem is that you're thinking of the Mandalorians and the Sithras as separate threats. They aren't. It's like... it's like fighting an enemy wielding a vibroblade. The blade is not a separate enemy from the body. The Mandalorians are no more than the weapons of the Sithras." She shook her head. "I won't ignore the vibroblade to poison the body."

Malak sighed. "I almost wish we could ask the Jedi for help, though I somehow doubt that would go well."

Mala chuckled, and her voice took on an innocent, higher tone. "'Yes, Master Vrook, we're looking for an ancient Dark Side artifact. Sure, we're planning on using it. No, we aren't evil Sith Lords! What ever gave you that idea?'"

Dira cleared her throat, and the laughter stopped. "All humor aside, it would seem that Mala is correct. To utilize her simile, we must deal with the immediate threat of the vibroblade before anything else."

"So we defeat the Mandalorians," Malak said. "And the Malachor plan seems to be our best bet on that front. Then we find the Star Forge. So now we have the means of generating a massive army. Then what? We go public with all we've found? We petition the senate to go to war against an enemy they know nothing about? One that they probably won't even believe is real?"

"No," Dira said. "The senate is a problem. They're too massive. Too corruptible."

"And yet they're the only way we can wage a war," Mala said.

Malak smiled, though it was without humor. "Unless we plan on wresting control from them. Then we could rule the galaxy ourselves!"

Silence filled the room.

"I was being sarcastic."

Still, no one spoke for a moment.

Mala looked to Dira. "No. I mean... we couldn't. ...could we?"

Dira's expression was contemplative. "I don't think it would be difficult to get the military on our side. After that... how hard would it be to gain control of the civilian authorities?"

Malak stood and held out his hands. "Hold on, just one moment. So we're suggesting that we defeat the Mandalorians."

"Yes," Mala said.

"And then we find the Star Forge."

"Yes."

"And then we use its powers to... conquer the Republic?"

"...yes."

"I see." He let out a long, slow breath. "That's... quite the plan."

Dira tapped her chin. "It's possible. If we struck quickly enough, we could even do it with little bloodshed."

"This... this is insane. You both realize that, don't you?"

"Do you have any other ideas?" Mala asked.

Malak shook his head. "No. That's probably the craziest part of all."

Mala leaned forward, placing her elbows on the desk. "So... so this is it. Galactic domination."

"When you put it that way, it sounds so..."

"Dark Side?" Mala sighed. "Yeah. I noticed."

"I feel that I need to point out what the Star Forge is," Dira said. "It is a Dark Side artifact. The thought that we could make use of it without falling is ridiculously naive, at best."

 _Is it truly a fall when you jump from the precipice?_

Mala pushed Dira's words away. "You know, you're a terrible master. Aren't you supposed to try to prevent my falling, rather than encourage it?"

"All masters hope that some day their student will surpass them. I believe you have."

"You both realize that the Sithras will see what we're doing, don't you?" Malak said. "Our secrecy will be gone."

"It can't last forever," Mala said. "And at least we'll have an unlimited fleet to fight against them." She glanced to her mask, which sat on her desk. "And since we're declaring war on them, anyway, we should send them a message."

Dira raised a brow. "Oh?"

Mala picked up the mask. "When we begin our assault," she placed it over her face, "call me Darth Revan."


	5. Mandalore and Malachor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains Mandalorians and, by extension, Mando'a. Here is a glossary of the terms used:
> 
>  _Jetii_ \- Jedi  
>  _Vor entye_ \- Thank you  
>  _Su cuy'gar_ \- Hello  
>  _Nayc_ \- No  
>  _Ori'jate_ \- Excellent  
>  _Tayli'bac, Mando'ade_? - Understood, Mandalorians?

Revan's strategies were now focused entirely upon directing Mandalorian forces to Malachor. The progress on the weapon was encouraging, and Revan hoped that it would be ready soon. The reports also showed that she had been wise to keep Halae from knowing details of the device. There was no way Halae would have agreed to its use if she'd known just how devastating it would be. Revan knew that it was just as likely to destroy their own forces as the Mandalorians'.

With this in mind, Revan began to assemble a list of ships that would serve in the battle. They needed to carry as much of the fleet as possible with them when they turned to conquer the Republic, which required the elimination of any forces that were unlikely to follow. Any captains who had ever questioned her found their ships on the list. She hated doing it, but that seemed to be how she felt about most of her actions lately.

Her heart was lightened somewhat when news reached them of Senator Cah's death. The reports said that she had died of a heart attack, brought on by a poor diet and exercise routine. Unsurprisingly, it was only a few days later when HK-47 returned.

Revan was with Malak, receiving a report on some recent intelligence from the Mandalorians, when the droid entered her quarters.

"Ah," she said. "Excellent work, HK-47. No one suspects a thing."

"Agreement: Yes, master, it was a wonderful thing. I felt great satisfaction as her face contorted with-"

"Thank you," Malak said. "We don't need the details." He looked to Revan. "You didn't stop him from labeling everything he says? It's so annoying."

"Passive-aggressive threat: Master, I do not know this organic. Is he to be my next target?"

Revan laughed at that. "I don't know, Malak. I rather like that quirk." Malak frowned at her. "Oh, come on. It's fun! Look, I'll show you. HK-47, this is General Malak. He's an old friend. I suppose you could consider him my apprentice."

Malak's brows rose. "Since when?"

"Since we decided I would be the Dark Lord. Unless you'd care to fight me over the title?"

"Definitely not."

"In any case," she said, turning back to the droid. "He is not your master. I am."

"As if I'd want the psychotic thing."

"Shush, Malak. Just because you're jealous of my toys, doesn't mean you can't be nice. HK, what do you think of my apprentice?"

The droid turned its head to Malak. "Cursory analysis: He is very large, master."

Revan rolled her eyes. "Come on. Give me more than that."

The droid let out a rattling sound much like a sigh. "Statement: Very well, master. He appears to have impressive physical strength, though his intelligence is questionable. He also has strange markings on his head." Revan attempted to contain her giggles. "He no doubt frightens other organics. In short, he is a serviceable meatbag."

Revan was no longer able to contain herself, and her laughter spilled out.

Malak glared at the droid. "Meatbag?"

"Explanation: Yes, General Malak. You are an organic construct of meat and organs, contained within a bag of skin. A meatbag."

Revan regained enough control to speak. "So I'm a meatbag, too?"

"Answer: Yes, master. However, you are a very skilled and intelligent meatbag, as evidenced by your creation of me."

Revan immediately moved to the droid and opened the main control panel. "Oh, I'm so adding that to his programming!"

"What?" Malak said. "Are you serious?"

"Of course! How many other people have droids that can shout, 'Die meatbag!' before they kill people?"

"Apparently plans for galactic domination do strange things to your sense of humor."

Revan's fingers hesitated over the control interface. "Yes," she said softly. "Well, what do you expect? Things aren't going to stay the same forever."

"I suppose not." He cleared his throat. "So... what are you going to do about Halae?"

Revan finished her work and closed the panel, though she didn't turn to face him. "Can we not talk about that?"

"We need to talk about it eventually."

"No, we really don't."

"We can't just leave her out there. She'll try to stop us unless we can get her to join us."

"I asked her about that, if you recall. She thinks that falling to the Dark Side isn't an option."

"That was a hypothetical situation. If we talk to her, we might be able to-"

"No." The word wasn't spoken loudly, but it was firm enough that he was silenced. She sat down at her desk. "Trust me, Malak. I've known her almost since she could talk. She would never come with us."

"Then what are we going to do?"

"I've already taken care of it."

"How?"

Rather than speaking, she brought up a file on the viewscreen.

Malak moved to read it. "But... this is the list of ships that will be at Malachor."

Revan nodded.

"The _Ordinance_ is listed as the command ship."

"It makes sense, doesn't it? Revan, unable to be there, assigns his most trusted general to command. No one will know." Revan leaned forward and worked her fingers into her hair, gripping it tightly and painfully. "The perfect murder. Halae dies a hero, never knowing that I was the one to do it."

Malak was still staring at the list. "There must be another way."

"What? If you have ideas, I'd love to hear them. Trust me, this brings me no pleasure." She sighed, attempting to calm herself before she broke into tears. "If we tell her what we're doing and why, she'll go to the council. If we don't tell her and let her live, we eventually have to fight her. I can't do that. Can you?"

"I... I don't know."

"If you can, it hardly matters, does it? If you succeed, then she's dead, anyway."

"We could arrest her. Keep her locked up."

"Until when? We're never going to be able to release her. I think she'd rather die without knowing that we betrayed her."

Malak swore under his breath, and Revan took that as agreement.

 _Damn it_.

\- - - - -

It wasn't long before they received word that the Malachor weapon, the Mass Shadow Generator, was ready. Revan had carefully maneuvered both fleets, and now the Mandalorians had little option but to run to Malachor V. She was ready for the final strike.

Revan paced the communications room as she waited for her call with Halae. The communications officer aboard the _Ordinance_ had paged her, but she was taking far too long for Revan's nerves. When Halae's familiar image finally appeared on the screen, Revan sighed.

"General Jasra," she said, nodding to her friend. "It's good to see you."

"And you, Revan," Halae replied. "I take it you've received our latest reports?"

"I have. You have the device ready for transport?"

"Yes, we do. We can arrive at the location in less than a week."

"Excellent. Proceed to the location and have your techs set it up. It appears that I won't be able to be there in time for the battle, so I want you to command."

"What? Why?"

Revan looked around the room. "Privacy, please." All of the soldiers stood and left the room, leaving Revan alone with the video feed. "We've received word that a group of Mandalorian scouts are in the area, making a move towards Mon Calamari." The action was an obvious distraction, and she had no doubt that Mandalore's goal was to keep her as far away from Malachor as possible. For once, their goals were in perfect alignment. "I'll be taking the _Swiftsure_ to attend to them."

"A group of scouts? Couldn't you send another ship?"

"The _Swiftsure_ is the best positioned ship in the fleet for this. And in any case, I'm hardly needed at Malachor, am I? I have faith in you."

Halae nodded, and Revan pushed away the sense of guilt that rose up at the trusting gesture.

She pressed a few buttons on the console. "I'm transferring my battle plans to you. They account for the range of the device, so the bulk of your forces should be out of the way when it activates." Another lie. She had fiddled with the numbers, showing the range of the device to be only half of what it truly was. Both fleets would be within the sphere of destruction.

"Of course."

"Just know that the objective is to defeat the Mandalorians. I can't imagine that you'll be able to keep everyone in the safe zone, so some lives may be lost."

Halae sighed. "Isn't it always that way?" She closed her eyes. She opened them a moment later and acted as though nothing was wrong. "Is there anything else?"

Revan hesitated. A part of her wanted to tell the truth. A very large part. "Just... the Mass Shadow Generator isn't tested. We don't know how big the device's radius will be. Try to have double the distance between your ship and the planet. Okay?"

"If you think that's necessary, I'll do what I can."

"Good." Halae had a fighting chance now. If the Force wanted her to die, she would. "That is all."

"Actually..." Revan turned and saw Dira walking into the communications room. "There is one more thing. I shall accompany the techs on the planet."

Revan's eyes widened. She looked back up at Halae, who appeared just as confused.

"Malachor V is a dangerous place," Dira continued, "full of Dark Side energy. A Jedi shall be needed to defend the tech team."

Revan frowned from beneath her mask. She knew the danger, of course, but there was no need for a Jedi. She had considered the risks during their early stages of planning, and had decided a regular armed escort would suffice. Was Dira attempting to commit suicide?

"I have several Jedi in my division who are more than capable of guarding the techs," Halae said. "There's really no need for you to rush here."

Dira looked to Revan. Most people believed the old archivist to be nearly expressionless, but Revan had learned how to read her years ago. The look she sent now was clear.

 _Trust me_.

"No," Revan said, turning to Halae. "It won't be your Jedi who accompany the techs. It will be Dira. She'll leave today and rendezvous with you at Malachor."

"If you insist."

"Good. Dismissed." They cut the comm, and Revan turned to Dira. "My quarters. Now."

Dira nodded, and they left the room, allowing the communications team to return to work. Revan and Dira sped through the halls, not even attempting conversation. Whatever was going on, Revan doubted that this was the sort of thing they wanted to discuss in public.

As soon as they were safely enclosed in her quarters, Revan ripped off her mask and turned to Dira. "I don't appreciate being blindsided like that, Master Dira. Now would you kindly explain to me why you have a death wish?"

When Dira spoke it was with irritating calmness. "There is an ancient Sithras academy on the surface of Malachor V."

That sentence drained away all of Revan's anger. "What?"

"As far as I can tell, it was their largest academy and storehouse of knowledge. If we can gain access to that knowledge, it would be a great help."

Revan sat down on her bed. "And how do you plan on sharing that knowledge if you're dead? You realize, I assume, that our plan would not leave a single ship to carry you safely from the battle."

"I plan on taking a courier to the rendezvous. I shall man it, and I shall escape upon it."

Revan shook her head. "That's far too risky. This place isn't worth the risk. I won't allow it."

"I cannot allow this academy and its knowledge to be lost forever."

Revan sighed. "You're going to go, aren't you? No matter what I say?"

"Yes."

"Halae won't hesitate to give the order to activate the device. Even if you're still on the planet."

"I am aware of the risks."

Revan saw something in her face that took a moment to identify. When she realized what it was, she stood to look eye to eye. "How long have you been toying with the Dark Side?"

Dira didn't even hesitate before answering. "I don't recall, exactly."

"Will you be here to see our plans through?"

Now she hesitated. "...no."

Revan's face was blank. "So this will be the last time we see each other?" Dira nodded. "I see. I have learned from the best Jedi of our times. I have studied the writings of ancient masters, both Sith and Jedi, and taken all that I can from them. Despite all of the teachers I have had, I consider you to be my true master. Whatever happens between us, know that."

Dira smiled, an expression that was rare on her. "I do. And know that you are the greatest achievement of my life. Should I someday train another who grows to be even half of what you are, I shall consider it a miracle."

Dira, like her prize pupil, was never the type to gain comfort in physical contact. It was, therefore, without hugs or kisses that they parted. Only a bow from each served as a goodbye, and then Dira was gone. Some part of Revan still hoped that they would meet again, but she knew that to be impossible. Their lives were changing, and she was no longer the precocious young padawan who drew the attention of the austere archivist. Mala died the day that she chose the name of Darth Revan. She wondered who Dira would be if she survived this battle. A Sith? A Jedi? Something new?

She knew one thing: whatever the old woman became, it would change the galaxy. Revan smiled. They all would.

\- - - - -

Revan had assumed the purpose of the Mandalorian scouts was to keep her from commanding at the battle, weakening the Republic forces by her absence. After they captured and interrogated them, they discovered that Revan wasn't the only commander who wasn't to be present at Malachor. Mandalore wanted her for himself. Their only goal had been to keep the _Swiftsure_ away from the battle long enough for Mandalore to catch them.

An ambush had been set at one of their stops between hyperspace jumps, and Revan adjusted their course. They were still making the stop, but now they would come out of hyperspace beyond the range of Mandalore's weapons. Revan gave orders to contact her when they dropped out of hyperspace, then retreated to her quarters to meditate. It was several hours later when the door opened and Malak entered.

"We're out of hyperspace and the _Buurenaar_ is in sight."

Revan nodded and stood, shaking out her stiff limbs. "Excellent. Let's finish this." She picked her mask off the table and put it on.

"I take it that you have a plan?"

They left her quarters and began heading for the bridge. "I always have a plan."

"Does it have something to do with the fact that you're wearing your combat armor?"

"Possibly."

"Are you going to let me in on this plan?"

"No."

They reached the bridge before he could ask further.

"Status report."

"We're still out of weapons range, but the _Buurenaar_ is closing the distance," Admiral Karath said. "It's good to see you, sir."

Revan ignored the greeting. "Are we within communications distance?"

"Yes, sir."

"Then do it. I wish to speak with Mandalore."

Karath nodded to the communications officer, and the screen lit up a moment later. Even if not for the mask, the figure that greeted them was impossible to mistake: two meters tall, broad-shouldered, and with an imposing set of armor. Mandalore.

"Revan," he said. "I wondered when we would come face to face."

"Please, let's skip the pleasantries. You wish to kill me, and I wish to kill you. I won't lie; I don't know how this battle will end."

Mandalore nodded, but said nothing. He had made a tactical mistake when he assumed that she would kill his scouts outright, and therefore never interrogate them. The _Buurenaar_ had firepower, but the _Swiftsure_ had range. It would be a close battle.

"You are aware that our forces face off at Malachor V as we speak. We are both too far away to affect them. The only battle we have control over is this one, between the two of us. What would you say to an offer to end this with minimal bloodshed?"

"I'm intrigued. What is your plan?"

"It's quite simple. I understand that your people have a tradition of dueling." She could sense the surprise of everyone on the bridge at these words. "Mine do, as well. Jedi and Sith have faced off for as long as the two have existed."

"You suggest a duel?"

"I do. One on one. What do you say, Mandalore?"

There was only a moment's hesitation as he considered this. "I accept. I hope you aren't insulted when I ask that this duel take place on my ship."

"Not at all. If I win, we take your ship captive and your crew surrenders peacefully. If you win, my people do the same."

"Agreed. To the death?"

"To the death."

"Very well." He turned to one of the crewmen behind him. "Prepare for their arrival." He turned back to Revan. "How many of your crew are to come aboard?"

"Only two. Admiral Saul Karath, and my apprentice, Malak."

"I have met both of them. I trust they won't cause trouble this time."

"If they do, then they die. By my hand or yours, it hardly matters." She could sense that Malak was largely unsurprised at these words, though Admiral Karath was shocked.

She thought she could hear a smirk in Mandalore's voice when he responded. "Very good. I shall expect your shuttle shortly, Revan."

His image cut out, and Revan turned to the stunned crew. "Move to rendezvous with the _Buurenaar_ and have someone prepare our shuttle. Karath, Malak, ready yourselves."

Admiral Karath seemed far too stunned to respond, so Malak spoke. "Master, may I speak with you a moment?"

"I suppose. It should be a few minutes before we make contact with the _Buurenaar_." She looked past him to Karath. "I expect you to be waiting for us in the shuttle bay, Admiral." He nodded and rushed off. "He didn't salute," Revan muttered. "I shall have to reprimand him for that."

"Master, I really need to speak with you in private."

"Of course." They moved to an empty briefing room.

As soon as the door closed, Malak turned to her. "Was this your plan all along? Some ridiculous duel?"

"I'd hardly call it ridiculous."

"Mandalore made his way to the top on the bodies of his challengers! This isn't just some poorly-trained grunt."

"I am aware of his skills."

"Then why?"

"Do I really need to explain it? I'm ashamed of you, Malak."

"Please."

"In dejarik, you don't just plan your current move. You plan the next one, and the one after that, and the one after that. That's all that I'm doing."

"I'm afraid I'll need more than that."

Revan sighed and removed her mask. She sat down on the table. "After this war is over, we need massive numbers of people to betray their old allegiances for us. We need to start making ourselves a legend. What better way to do that than to defeat the leader of the Mandalorians in single combat?"

"And what if you fail? What if he kills you in this duel?"

"Then I expect you to take my place." She placed one hand on Malak's arm. "Trust me, Malak. I can do this. Have I ever lost a fight when it counted?"

"It only takes once."

"We need to take this chance." She stood and reattached her mask. "Come on. We'll be leaving soon."

\- - - - -

A Mandalorian guard squad was waiting for them when they pulled into the shuttle bay. Revan didn't hesitate before disembarking from the shuttle.

" _Jetii_ Revan," the leader of the team said, stepping forward. "We ask that your companions relinquish their weapons while they are on our ship."

She nodded.

"Master?" Malak said, his hand hovering over his lightsaber.

Revan didn't turn when she spoke. "Malak, you could easily fight your way off this ship unarmed. This is a mere formality."

She could sense that her words shook the Mandalorians somewhat, but they did their best not to show it. Her companions handed over their weapons, though Malak hesitated before giving up his lightsaber.

" _Vor entye_ ," the leader of the group said. "Please follow us."

The guards led the Republic group through the ship to a room which had once been a gym. She was impressed with how quickly they were able to convert it into an arena for the purposes of the duel. All of the equipment was pushed to the sides and large collapsible stands had been erected along the walls. A Mandalorian occupied each seat. Revan knew this could only be part of the crew, and she wondered if there were cameras broadcasting this to other areas of the ship.

Mandalore stood in the center of the room, inside of a circle painted on the floor. " _Su cuy'gar_ , Revan! I trust you had no difficulties on your arrival?"

She bowed. " _Nayc, Mand'alor_. Your people have been very accommodating."

" _Ori'jate_. Now, I realize that we have yet to determine the conditions of this duel. I propose that we fight simply. You may use your lightsabers, I may use my axe, and no more. No stims, no shields, and none of your Force tricks. Is this acceptable?"

Revan mourned the loss of her Force powers, but she had expected no less. She nodded. "It is."

"There is one other thing. Neither of us is some prancing Echani, so I don't request the removal of your armor, but I would like to look my opponent in the eye as we fight."

Revan's eyes widened. She hadn't considered this possibility. "I... I see. And how important is this to you?"

"Vitally important."

"Are you aware that I have never shown my face in public?"

"I am. I have not done so, either. A fitting end to the war, don't you think?"

"I suppose." She looked around at the masked spectators. "I ask only two things. First, that no record is made or transmitted of this duel, even to other locations on this ship."

Mandalore nodded to one of the people standing near the circle, who stepped back and spoke into his comm. "Done. My crew will have to suffer the silence."

"Thank you. The second is that none present here speak of what they see."

She could hear the curiosity in his voice as he answered. "Very well. _Tayli'bac, Mando'ade_?"

The affirmative response echoed throughout the room.

Revan turned to look back at Karath. "That goes for you as well, Admiral."

"Yes, sir," he said, snapping off a sharp salute.

"Very well." She reached up and removed her mask. She abruptly wished she'd thought to put on her contacts before coming here, but it was too late. She lowered her hood and looked up, back straight and shoulders back. A whisper ran through the room as they all took in her appearance. She handed her mask back to Malak, not taking her eyes off of Mandalore. "It's done, Mandalore. You know the secret of Revan. I think it's your turn."

He reached up and removed his helmet, revealing his face. Revan had only ever seen the face of a Taung once before, and that had been a dead one. All the same, she knew what to expect. The gray-green skin and bony structure were completely ordinary for his race. His eyes were nearly the same color as hers were now, she noticed. His only distinguishing mark was a large scar that ran across his face. "Well," he said. "I must admit, I didn't expect that, Revan. A very convincing ruse. I never suspected you could be a woman."

"I know."

He smiled, the expression seeming strange on his alien face. "How many know of your true identity?"

"Until now? The entirety of the Jedi council, as well as three of the Jedi in my army."

"Interesting. I see no reason for the deception, but I suppose I never will understand you." He held out his hand, and one of his men handed him a massive axe. It was at least as tall as the Taung. "I would just like to say that it has been a pleasure to fight you, Revan. If you were a Mandalorian, we would have been unstoppable."

Revan drew her lightsabers and ignited them. Twin blades of blue crackled from the ends. "I can say the same for you. It is an honor." She bowed, and Mandalore followed suit. Then the two of them moved into combat stances.

The two fighters circled each other slowly, each studying the other's form. Mandalore rushed forward suddenly, and she rolled to the side. She knew that there was no way she could block one of his strikes, so she needed to remain mobile.

She brought one of her sabers across his torso as she moved, but it only skittered across the surface and created sparks. It would take a lot of work to burn through it enough to cause any serious damage, and she lacked the strength to do much with the force of her blows. His arms and legs were her best shot.

She righted herself and resumed her defensive posture.

"Not bad," he said. "But you can't dodge forever."

He was right. Being on the defensive was unusual for her. She needed to take charge.

She leapt over her opponent, landing behind him and slashing out at his legs with one of her blades. It caught him behind the right knee, but he was able to move away before it could sever the hamstring. She ducked to dodge the swing that he directed at her in response. It caught the top part of her bun, slicing cleanly through. Her hair fell down around her face, and she shook it away.

She knew that Mandalore wouldn't wait before striking again, and rolled away. Sure enough, he brought his axe down in a fierce blow.

As soon as she was upright again, she jumped into the air, driving her lightsabers down towards his body. She realized the move was a mistake almost immediately.

He slid to the side, away from her weapons, then swung his axe in a high arc.

Revan managed to bring one blade up to block the blow, but the power of his strike only batted it away. The axe sliced through to her leg and she finished her fall with an awkward tumble to the ground. She drew on the Dark Side, allowing the pain to fuel her strength. Revan rolled away. She was just in time, though part of her cloak ripped when his axe bit into the floor. A second earlier and it would have been her.

She stood shakily, ignoring the feeling of warm blood trickling down her leg. She shrugged out of her cloak and threw it back, never once looking away from Mandalore.

There was no time to think. She continued to move, striking and springing away to keep him from facing her directly. Her leg shot with pain each time she landed, and more blood flowed from the wound. She nearly tripped once, slipping in the blood that was beginning to coat the ground.

She didn't allow it to slow her down, however. She nearly cut his arm off with one particularly acrobatic spinning jump, but he was faster than he appeared. He managed to duck away, and she landed across the ring.

Mandalore also had his share of near hits. He anticipated a landing of hers and swung his axe towards her. She only barely ducked away from the blade, falling back onto her rear. She turned the movement into a roll and recovered.

She was at a serious disadvantage. She was losing blood, while his wound was neatly cauterized. As much fuel as she gained from the pain, she couldn't fight without blood. She needed to end it soon. Revan sensed her opportunity when Mandalore charged. She flipped into the air.

Mandalore was just recovering from the charge and turning to face her when she swung. He began to raise his axe to block her blades, but it wasn't soon enough. Both blades swung towards him and his eyes widened at the sight of the bright blue beams moving towards his unprotected neck.

The head thumped to the floor and Revan took a deep breath. The room was silent. No one moved. Someone behind her began to clap, and she spun around to face them. It was Malak, a smirk on his face.

"Well done," he said. "Now, shall we contact the ship? I wonder if the battle might be over by now."

"Of course," she said, taking another shaky breath and switching off her lightsabers. She moved back to where Malak stood to retrieve her mask and cloak. Now with her appearance reassembled, she started searching through her belt pouches for a medpac. "Karath, contact the ship and tell them that we have prisoners." Admiral Karath stepped back and began speaking into his communicator. "Whichever of you has my officers' weapons, return them now. We'll also need someone to load Mandalore's body onto our shuttle."

Two Mandalorians approached. One was carrying their weapons, and he passed them back. The other was the one who still held Mandalore's mask. "Please," he said, "allow us to attend to the body."

"I suppose you can have the body," she said, drawing the medpac from her belt and removing a small hypospray of kolto. "All I need is the mask."

The words were loud enough to carry to some of the observers, who gasped. "But," the Mandalorian sputtered, "But the mask is... It's _Mand'alor_!"

Revan turned to face him. "I defeated him in combat, therefore I am free to take it. There will be no arguments."

The man swallowed, and she held out her hand. He hesitated. She placed a hand on her lightsaber hilt, and he passed over the mask, which she tucked away within her cloak. She looked away from him and injected the kolto into her thigh. The wound would need further medical care, but the shot would close it off and dull the pain, and that was enough for now.

"Sir," Karath said, stepping back towards her. He paused. "Er... ma'am."

"If you call me ma'am again, I will be forced to wound you."

He nodded and swallowed. "Yes, sir. If we go to the bridge, the ship can connect us with a real-time transmission of the battle at Malachor."

"Excellent." She threw aside the hypospray and turned to the man who had held Mandalore's mask. "If you could lead the way?" He nodded, and she addressed the assembled Mandalorians. "Your leader made a deal. Go to your comrades and inform them of the situation. The Republic will be along shortly to take you all. I... suggest... that you do not attempt to escape." She turned back to their reluctant guide. "Lead on."

The trip to the bridge was short, and soon Revan was facing the ship's tactical display. Small red triangles indicated the Mandalorian ships, while green circles stood for the Republic. The Mandalorians still had the advantage of numbers, but Revan knew that meant nothing. As expected, they were clustered around the planet.

"Shall we inform them of Mandalore's death?" Admiral Karath asked.

"No," Revan replied, not taking her eyes from the screen. As she watched, several key Republic ships began to drift away from the planet. The battle was nearing its end, though most of the combatants were completely unaware.

"But the Mandalorians might stand down," he said. "I thought that was the whole reason for this duel."

Revan removed her mask and turned her yellow eyes upon him in a piercing glare. "Do not contact them." She looked back to the screen. "The battle will continue."

" _Ravager_ ," Halae's voice issued from the console, directing one of the ships in the battle. "Move to position Besh-4. A group of Mandalorians is trying to break through the lines there."

"Acknowledged. Moving to position," the captain replied.

Revan followed the line of the _Ravager_ and studied the small triangles it was to intercept. They were hardly a real threat. Halae was shifting their forces away from the supposed range of the weapon. The _Ordinance_ , and therefore Halae, was still within the Mass Shadow Generator's reach, though beyond the false range that Halae had originally been told. As they watched, it began to slowly move back.

"They're preparing for the final strike," Malak said, stepping up next to Revan.

"Yes," she said, not taking her eyes off the display.

"Do you suppose Dira is still on the planet?"

"It's possible." A large part of her hoped that the woman had escaped by now, but she thought it unlikely. "It looks like something is about to happen."

Halae's ship was still not far enough out that it would be spared, but it was close.

Her voice was heard again. "This is General Jasra. All Republic ships, retreat! Get as far away from the planet as you can!"

"What?" Revan hissed. "She's tipping off the Mandalorians!"

The ships began to move instantly, pulling away. To no great surprise, the Mandalorians did the same.

"Damn it," Halae said softly. Revan imagined that she'd forgotten the speakers were on. "No time."

There followed what felt like an eternity of silence. The ships continued to move, and Halae's own vessel crossed the invisible line of safety. Revan was torn between relief and frustration at this. Then the destruction began.

Revan fell to her knees as the feeling of the deaths reached her. Her mind was filled with the screams and terror of the thousands who were shredded or crushed in the moment of the device's activation. Those who didn't die instantly cried out in fear of the chaos around them. Revan's head felt as if it would explode, and every nerve in her body screamed in agony. She drew on the Dark Side to help shield her from the worst of the pain, and the death fueled her strength. She stood again and watched the screen.

Starting from the center point of the planet, the symbols for ships began to vanish. The wave traveled fast, moving quickly to the point where Halae had been told it would end. Then it pushed past.

As it spread, fewer and fewer ships were pulled in and destroyed. It still bore some force, however, as it reached the final estimated range. Several more ships winked out.

The _Ordinance_ was gone.

The computer began to run up estimates of casualties. Revan had to look away. She turned to Malak.

"It's done," she said.

"It looks like she didn't make it," he said. "Despite your final interference."

Revan didn't answer.

He continued to study the screen. "Wait... some of the ships are coming back online."

"What?" Revan whipped around and stared at the screen. Sure enough, some of the ships on the fringes of the blast were transmitting again. "The wave must have caused some temporary interference."

She watched the spot where Halae's ship had disappeared, ignoring the chatter as confused voices called for help. One voice cut through the cacophony of the rest to draw Revan's attention.

"Mayday," Halae shouted, and Revan could hear pain in her voice. "Forces at Malachor have been decimated! Surviving ships are badly damaged and in need of medical assistance! By the Force, get us some medics!"

Revan's finger hovered over the comm button. What could she say? She stepped back and nodded to Karath. "Tell them that help is on the way. Then send the rest of the forces in this sector to them. Medical teams are a priority."

"Yes, sir," he said, stepping up to the comm.

Revan put her mask back on. The war was over. Her plan had worked. Now she had only to deal with the aftermath.


	6. The Aftermath

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, here is the final chapter! I hope you've enjoyed it. I'm trying to spend more time on my fanfiction these days, so you can probably expect more from me soon. Thank you!

Revan saw to it that the medical teams reached Halae's ship first. More than a few members of the crew were dead, though Halae was only injured. The teams arrived to find her desperately working to save the life of a tech, ignoring her own wounds. It was only once he was stabilized that Halae allowed herself to be transferred to one of the medical ships.

Revan knew which ship it was, but she couldn't bring herself to visit. She didn't go to any of them. She'd sent those people to their deaths; to comfort them now felt like spitting in their face. She limited herself to obsessively reading reports of Halae's recovery.

She was surprised at how slow her friend was progressing. Halae was a skilled healer in her own right, and was capable of entering a very potent healing trance. None of the reports bore any mention of this. Was she somehow punishing herself?

When she wasn't studying Halae's reports, Revan was busy planning what to do with the rest of the fleet. She still needed some way to escape and search for the Star Forge. The solution appeared upon analyzing the records of the battle, which showed remnants of the Mandalorian fleet escaping into the Unknown Regions. The senate viewed her as a messiah for killing Mandalore and ending the war, and was more than happy to approve her plans to chase after them. No one would notice when she and Malak disappeared.

She was working on troop deployments for the Unknown Regions when Malak entered her room.

"Do you ever plan on knocking?" she asked, not looking up from her console.

"No," he said. He sat down on the edge of her desk. "I found something interesting when I was studying the casualty lists."

"A depressing hobby."

"I just thought someone should, and since you haven't done it yet..." When she didn't respond, he continued. "I found two unexpected names."

Revan stayed silent.

He continued on. "The first was Dira Rimora."

"Halae put her there. We can't find anything to indicate that she managed to escape before the destruction began."

"But we don't know."

Revan glared up at him. "No. We don't. However, if she _is_ alive, then she hasn't contacted us, which means she doesn't want anyone to know where she is. I just thought that proclaiming her dead would be appreciated."

He nodded. "I can see that."

"Good." She looked back to her console. "Now will you let me get back to work? I have a lot of work to do before we leave."

"There's still the second name." Revan stiffened. "Mala Noor."

A thousand different comments flew through her head. Each sounded more stupid than the last. "So?"

"You're looking remarkably fresh for a dead woman." Revan ignored the joke, and Malak sobered. "Halae will see this, you know. She probably already has."

Revan leaned back from the computer. "She had to find out eventually. Why not now?"

"You'll never be able to speak to anyone as yourself again."

Revan shrugged. "What else is new? Our lives are changing. How many of our old friends will want to chat with Darth Revan and Darth Malak?"

Now Malak seemed to be the one with no response. He shifted his position slightly. "Have you been to see her?"

"No. You?"

He shook his head. "I can't."

"I would tell you off for that, but... you know. Pot. Kettle." Revan smiled, though it was weak. "If you want an excuse not to go, I can put you to work."

"Please."

"I want you to start looking for any archaeological records of structures similar to the Dantooine ruins. Just in case we don't find anything useful there."

"I'm sure we will," Malak said, standing. "After all, the Force is on our side." He walked briskly from the room and the door shut behind him.

"I hope so."

\- - - - -

Revan didn't stop watching after Halae's progress. Because of that, it came as quite the surprise to both Revan and Malak when Halae entered her quarters.

Revan immediately ducked behind her terminal, hoping to hide her eyes. Her contacts were in their case on the other side of the room.

"I didn't realize you'd been released," Revan said. She quickly closed out the map of Dantooine that she had been studying.

"I know," Halae said. Revan had to look up when she heard her voice. It was quiet and hoarse, and there was a quality to it that she couldn't place. She'd never heard Halae sound like that before.

Something was horribly wrong. Not something physical, though her arm was still in a sling. All living beings had a connection to the Force, no matter how weak. Halae had none.

"Malak," Halae said. "May I speak to Mala alone?"

"Of course," he said, bowing to Revan as he left.

"So." Halae sat down on the edge of the bed. Revan studied her as best she could while attempting to hide her yellow eyes, and was not pleased with what she saw. Halae's normally bright and energetic expression had fallen. It was as if everything about her had been dimmed. What happened?

"How are you feeling?" Revan asked.

"I think I'm still a little shell shocked. I wasn't expecting it to be that bad."

Revan peeked out from her console further. Halae's eyes were downcast. "And your injuries?"

"Minor, really. I... I couldn't heal them. The force of all of those deaths is still weighing too heavily on me. I don't know how long it will be before I recover."

"You'll manage."

Halae nodded. "Did you hear about the council?"

"You mean that they're calling for our return? Yes. They think that just because Mandalore is dead, we're no longer needed out here."

"Is it true?"

"The threat is still out there." That was true, and vague enough that she wouldn't question it. "I'm going to pursue the Mandalorians that escaped."

"I heard." Halae was still staring at the floor. "Is this what war is? So much death, and then hardly any break at all before you go chasing after an enemy who is already beaten, just in case they can hit you in their death throes?"

Revan thought long and hard about that question before answering. "Yes."

Halae nodded to the floor. "I remember the early days. Back when we were just thinking of leaving. Do you remember how worked up we would get over the council's inaction? We were so passionate."

It pained Revan to hear her friend using that flat tone, her face expressionless. She was never like this. "I still am," Revan said firmly.

Halae shook her head. "I can't keep doing this, Mala. It's too much for me. I'm going back to the Jedi."

"They'll punish you for leaving."

"I'll deserve far worse."

"Don't say that."

"You saw what happened to the fleet at Malachor. I did that."

"Only because I ordered you to. Besides, for every life that was taken there were thousands more saved."

"That isn't how it works. Those people are still dead, I still did it, and I deserve all of the punishment which comes as a result."

If Halae was returning to the Jedi, they would eventually clash. A very large part of her wanted to kill the woman now, to save the trouble later. She had yet to fall so far to the Dark Side for that to be an easy decision, however. She studied the frail, broken woman before her. Revan closed her eyes.

"If that's what you want to do, I won't stop you."

"Thank you. I... I wondered if you would."

 _So did I_.

"We had a good run," Revan said, mostly just to fill the silence.

Halae nodded. "We did."

"When are you leaving?" Revan asked.

"Today. After I leave you here." Halae finally raised her eyes to meet her friend's, and Revan resisted the urge to look away. She wanted to look into those beautiful blue eyes once more before she left. Their brightness was dimmed, but there was still an echo of the warmth that had once filled them. "You... Mala is gone, isn't she?"

The words were like a shock to Revan. She hadn't thought of it like that. Mala Noor was officially dead, yes, but some part of her still considered that to only be the official version. Was she still Mala, though? She searched within herself, and found herself unable to lie to those piercing eyes.

"Yes."

Halae nodded. "I was afraid of that."

Revan wanted to say something. She wanted to comfort her old friend, to tell her that she was still the same girl that would sneak out of her room at night so that they could play in the caves. She wanted to tell her not to leave. She wanted to tell her that all of this was for a good cause. She couldn't.

Halae stood. "Goodbye. We... may never meet again."

Revan nodded, her tongue stilled by the lies between them.

Halae reached out with her unbound hand, but froze before she could complete the gesture. Without another word, she walked out. The door shut on the closest friendship that either woman ever had.

"Goodbye."

-The End-


End file.
